Alphabet Saturdays
by Avila Grace
Summary: Jim has 26 Saturdays, A to Z, to convince Pam that not all men are scum. Will he be able to change her mind by Saturday Z? Complete.
1. The Bet

Okay. So, this came to me in the car on my way to Jacksonville this weekend (yay speeding tickets!!!). I'd read a book summary called Alphabet Weekends a few weeks ago, thought it was an interesting idea. I picked the book up, couldn't stand it, but thought it might be cute to do with JAM. So, let me know what you think.

And to Katy, I actually am almost done studying for finals!! So I might post more this week!

* * *

She sat on the concrete steps leading up to his house, her hands wet from the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. Her bright pink pillow was resting on her shoulders, a new pillowcase on it, different from the one she'd drooled on last night. Her car, pulled up to the very edge of his driveway, held the rest of her suitcases in its trunk. She wiped her eyes against the pillowcase and buried her face in the pillow as the cool breeze that came with a May evening picked up.

It wasn't until he was standing over her that she felt his presence, and when she looked up, he'd already crouched down beside her and was patting her head lightly. "Hey." He said, and she nodded slightly, not wanting to acknowledge anything with words because she was afraid she'd have no words come out, only the quiet sobs of desperation.

"You want to come in?" he asked, and she nodded lightly, pulling herself up. She reached for her suitcase but noticed it was no longer sitting on the step but was now resting between his curled fingers as he brought it inside and set it in Mark's old room. "Are there more in your trunk?" he asked softly, and when she nodded, he took the keys from her hand and unloaded the last three suitcases, pulling them inside with a small grunt and setting them down with the others.

She followed him into the burnt orange colored room, the striped sheets on the bed reminding her of the bedspread that had been on his at his barbeque a few years ago. She'd been to his house plenty of times before—so many times that she could probably get there from anywhere in the world without a second thought—but she'd never been in Mark's room before. He opened the closet and the dresser drawers, turned on the lights for her, and said softly, "Make yourself at home. Come out when you're ready."

She stared at him for a minute, before taking a few small steps toward him, her arms outstretched, begging him to come toward her. When he finally did, she could hardly breathe as he wrapped his arms around her in a hug, holding her just the right amount of time so that she wasn't suffocated, but wasn't left wanting. "It'll be okay," he said softly, pulling away from her and heading out the door.

Quickly, she unpacked all of her belongings, throwing her clothes in random drawers and pushing the suitcases underneath the bed. She walked into the adjoining bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror, gasping at the red blotches and wanting to cry just at the thought that they existed. She quickly washed her face, splashing it with cold water before changing into her pajamas and wandering out into the living room.

Jim was standing in front of the stove, flipping two grilled cheese sandwiches when he heard the refrigerator door open next to him, and he turned to watch her pull some milk out of the refrigerator and pour herself a glass. He smiled as he watched her, flipping the sandwiches onto two plates and handing one to her. She smiled in response and walked over to his pantry, pulling out some potato chips.

"You're great at making yourself at home," he smiled, teasing her lightly. She grinned and put a potato chip in her mouth, her reply muffled by the pieces of chip rolling around inside and sticking to her teeth and tongue.

"Thank you for dinner." She said softly, the smile disappearing from her face as she ran her finger over the bread. "It looks great."

"You're welcome," he replied, taking a bite and chewing slowly.

"I bet you're wondering why I'm here," she asked.

"Not exactly," he said, taking another bite. "You know you're always welcome here… I'm more wondering why you brought suitcases with you."

"I left him," she replied, her eyes averting him. Even without seeing them, he knew that they were sad and downcast. She had a way of always wearing her heart in her eyes, and he loved that about her.

"Oh," he replied softly. "What, um, what happened?"

She took a big gulp of milk and swallowed hard, as if she'd never thought he'd ask her such a deep and personal question, even though she'd known full-well he would.

"I found something that wasn't mine under our bed," she replied slowly, and his fists clenched under the table at the meer suggestion that Roy had cheated on her. "And when I brought it up, his excuse was 'a man has to do what a man has to do'. No kidding."

Jim pursed his lips together to keep from saying anything completely unfounded, but air blew out against them, causing an annoyed sound to vibrate against his lips. She looked up at the sound and caught his face before continuing, "I swear, Jim. Men are just scum. Every last one of them. I don't know what it is about a penis, but my god they come with some bad genes."

"Hey now…" Jim said, softly, but slightly offended. "It just seems that way now because you were dating a scumbag. Not all guys are like that."

"Sure they are. Boys are stupid and gross and I don't like them." She said, clenching her teeth together as she fiddled with her potato chips.

"Not all of them. Come on, Pam, be fair… I know you're hurting, but not all men are like that."

"Yes they are," she replied matter-of-factly, taking another bite. "In fact, I think I might become a lesbian, get rid of them for good."

"Oh come on!" he said, exasperated.

She grinned back at him, her look obviously one that said "dare me to."

"I'll make you a deal," he said, thoughtfully, dropping his grilled cheese on his plate and bringing a finger to his chin.

"Oh?" she asked, a small smile forming on her lips.

"You can become a lesbian, but first, you have to give me the chance to prove to you that not all men are scumbags."

"Thank you for the permission," she replied, an edge to her voice, but her eyes were smiling. "How are you planning on proving to me that not all men are scumbags, Halpert?"

"I want 26 Saturdays from you," he said, as if this was no big deal at all.

"26." She stated, a look of incredulousness running across her face. "26 Saturdays is a heck of a long time to give you," she replied. "And even then, you'd need more time than that to convince me that not all men are scum."

"I just want 26," he replied.

"Why 26?" She asked, leaning in closer as if her curiosity itself couldn't be contained. "And why Saturdays?"

"I am going to take you on 26 different 'dates'," he said, putting air quotes around the word date. "One for every letter of the alphabet. If by letter Z you don't agree with me that only some men are scumbags, then I will let you go on your merry lesbian ways."

She eyed him mischievously, wondering if there was some sort of plan behind the stated plan. He stared back at her, never breaking eye contact, daring her to look away first. "Okay," she said, throwing her hands in the air. "When do we start?"

"Three days from now. Saturday."

"Okay, and what will we be doing for A day?" She asked, sighing.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you that part. Every date is a surprise. A secret. A day could be anything." He grinned and she rolled her eyes, looking down at her plate and wondering why she'd agreed to give Jim Halpert the next 26 weekends of her life.

* * *

Review. Tell me if a) you liked this chapter. b) you think it should continue. c) if you do think it should continue, do you have any ideas. d) was it clear enough?


	2. A is for Applejacks

A/N: Okay, here you go. These chapters will most likely be shorter than my normal chapters are because they're little snippits... I hope you enjoy it :) and 21 reviews! You guys are too good to me!!!

Your Reviews:

Browndoggy- Aww thanks friend! And Im glad you're reading the diary one, even though I'm sad you can't review it!! I'm glad you love the idea and John is so cute! And thanks for being my loyal reviewer!  
Elly- Yes, I am going to explain more what happened with her and Roy... It'll come up on a date or two probably. Or perhaps I will do it as a standalone peice. We'll see.  
Katy- Thanks darling!! And your idea, unfortunately, doesn't work with the timeline of the story, haha but keep it coming. :) Hehe. I love the boys line.  
Kerber- Well, thanks!! Here's more! And please post what you've written! We're all just faceless pennames here, you know ;)  
Tiffany- Thanks! Scumbag Roy.  
Not Complaining- Thanks! I hope you continue to enjoy it.  
Leah- tickled! I love that word!!! And alphabet journey, you're so cute! About your challenge.. Eeh! I've never been drunk (or really been around them), so I can't even fathom writing one drunk story, let alone 99... However, you should post something about that on MTT and have it as a contribution series, where everyone can contribute a drunk chapter and turn it into a fic. It sounds cool! HUGE undertaking!  
Ktface- Oh, let me explain the whole "date" thing... Jim wasn't really asking her out asking her out... He was more just saying "let me show you that it's possible that you can spend time with a guy and not be disgusted or hurt." The dates, at least at first, won't be these romantic dates where they kiss and have sex. So in Pam's mind, she's basically only jumping into Jim and her spending saturdays together, not really DATING anyone. If that makes snese? And yes, one of their dates will be ruined--great idea! And yeah, I tend to paint Jim in an amazing light... one of these days i will make him not so great, haha. And I crank out in between studying. I'm a mad woman.  
Literati- Haha, thanks!  
Nutmeg- Well I wouldn't want you to be peeved!!! And thanks! You're my hero too. After Jim and Pam.  
Annika- Thanks! I love your name!  
Dancer- Ahem. Got that one already written down...  
Trisk- oh thanks! I sometimes have a hard time with the Jim/Pam banter, so I'm glad you like it!  
FakeID- Wow. You took that comment completely different than it was intended within the story. Have you ever heard someone jokingly say they're going to convert to lesbianism after a guy hurts them? I have, plenty of times. I wasn't implying that it was something you can just turn on and turn off. It was simply a joke that Pam made. That's why, before hand, Pam said plenty of times that boys were gross and scum--she made plenty of comments before hand setting up that she was kidding. Not very many people believe you just sit down at the dinner table and decide to be a lesbian, so please don't assume that's what I believe. I did not treat it in a cavalier nature; you just misunderstood the context.  
Danny- I'm glad you liked it! And Roy just sucks. End of discussion. Though he's growing on me outside of the stories I write.  
Sezza 1- Oh thanks!! I have plans for this story, at least on the bare minimum!  
Eagle- Oh gosh. I don't even know if I have another movie I can quote. Four for you Glen Coco, You go Glen Coco.  
Sezza2- Thanks! I wasn't sure after the last review, but I really couldn't find anything that would make a reader believe she was being completely serious, nor would I write anything that treated it that way on purpose! And yes, I used it as a coping method for Pam. And here's your update.  
Anon- Thanks. And yes, B is for breakfast, but it probably won't be the B in the next chapter.  
Claire- Haha, yeah fixed numbers is nice as a writer, it gives me a deadline, and it's nice for you all too. THough I have a feeling around ch. 13 i'll get all of those reviews "I hate that this story is almost over!" Lol. I may do a standalone to it, we'll see.  
Coffee- Okay, so don't take my word for it on Alphabet Weekends, I just couldn't get into it. It reminds me a lot of Love Actually, because there are like 4 different couples and so it gets kind of confusing. I stopped reading it after the A date (which was like 100 pages in). So, hopefully this will be cute. And so you know, applepicking actually WAS the first date on the list, but I had to change it. So, enjoy. And B is not beet farm, but I haven't forgotten about Beet Farms, so...

* * *

Pam lay in her bed, staring up at the popcorn ceiling. The blue and green striped comforter was wrapped around her body as she sat staring, a million thoughts running through her head. The clock on the dresser next to her was flashing in bright red numbers, telling her that it was 2 and a half hours after the rooster had crowed out on Dwight's farm, and yet, four and a half hours before she really wanted to get up. She'd never been a morning person.

But, she couldn't shake the strange excitement that had bubbled up inside of her stomach at the thought of the new journey she'd mistakenly agreed to go on with Jim. She had no doubt in her mind that it would be a bust. There was no way he could convince her that men weren't scum. It was just not going to happen. Especially after all that Roy had done to convince her that they were. She was sure, even if Jim was trying to convince her the opposite, that all of these Saturdays with him would just firm up her belief more. Not that Jim treated her like scum, but 26 full days with him? He was bound to be the plaque on her teeth at some point.

She groaned to herself and sat up, letting the covers fall to her waist as she stretched her arms to the sky, as if stretching might somehow make her more awake and ready to face the day. She stepped out of bed and yelped out in pain when she realized she'd left one of her headbands on the floor next to the bed, the little ridges designed to keep her hair in place had jabbed into her foot. She hopped on her left foot, hoping to alleviate the pain by simply not stepping on the foot and letting out small choruses of "ow."

She hobbled into the bathroom and straight over to the toilet seat, sitting down and pulling her foot to her lap and staring at the small indentions of her foot with such a ferocity that she knew if anyone saw her, they'd be instantly embarrassed for her. After a few minutes of day dreaming and playing stare contest with her foot, she got off the toilet and went over to the mirror, brushing her teeth with the Colgate Mark's girlfriend had left behind probably a good two years ago. But, did Colgate go bad?

Thirty minutes later, after cleaning her teeth and her body and stepping out of the shower, she was standing in front of the mirror, scrunching her hair. She didn't think she had to look good for her day with Jim, but nonetheless, something about the word 'date' made her feel like she was supposed to dress up. At least a little bit. So she'd decided to scrunch her hair, put on a nicer top than normal (anything's nicer than a t-shirt, right), and maybe she'd even wear her nicer shorts. She didn't know what her day with Jim was going to bring, but she figured it couldn't be anything that shorts wouldn't cover adequately.

By the time she was dressed and her appearance was at least halfway decent to her own taste, she walked into the kitchen, pleasantly surprised to see Jim, fully dressed, reading the newspaper and taking a spoonful of cereal, an extra bowl full right next to him. She grinned.

"What kind of cereal is for breakfast today?" She asked.

"A is for Applejacks." He replied, and she laughed, giving him a raised eyebrow. He turned to her and grinned, "Well, it can be."

She laughed and took a bite of the cereal, unsure of why she was even friends with a man that still ate second grader cereal. "So, what's on the agenda for today?" She asked, swallowing the mouthful of soggy cereal. "_Anchorman _and Al's Sports Grill?"

"Who do you think I am?" He asked, nearly choking on his cereal. "I'll have you know that my dates rarely include raunchy jokes or hot wings."

"Rarely?" She asked, grinning.

"On occasion," he replied, laughing. "Now, hurry up and finish your cereal. Maybe we can start working you into the big kid cereal, like Life." He grinned and took another bite of his cereal, and for the first time, Pam noticed that his was different than hers. And then she noticed the small, serving size box of Apple Jacks that only seemed to exist on things like camping trips and continental breakfasts. She sighed and rolled her eyes. This was going to be a long journey.

* * *

Pam climbed into Jim's car as he held the door open for her and smiled when he closed it behind her and walked to his side of the car. As soon as the door opened, her mouth seemed to have it's own accord. "You know, Jim, Corolla starts with C, not A."

"A is for automobile," He replied, glaring at her with a smile on his face. She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Now, are you ready to know what A really stands for?"

"Yes." She replied, glad to have the gloominess of the impending dread over and done with.

"Andy and Angela." He replied, and her eyes went wide in shock and her mouth twisted in horror.

"Men are scum!" She screamed playfully in mock indignation, and it wasn't until his head hit the horn and he was clutching his side to keep from laughing that she realized he'd been kidding.

"Okay," he said, breathless from the laughing that had overtaken him earlier. "A is actually for apartment hunting. Now, you are welcome to stay with me, you know that… But I thought you might want to have your own place."

She nodded. "Well, it would be easier for you to pick me up for our 'dates' if I lived somewhere other than down the hall," She said, putting her own air quotes around the word.

"You make it sound like you're Harry Potter living in your aunt's cupboard," he said, grinning and handing her the newspaper he'd brought in the car with him. "Now, I found a few already that I thought you might be interested in… I don't know what your price range is, but they looked pretty reasonable to me."

"Okay, let's hit the apartments," she replied, the insides of her giggling at how ironic it was that she was on a date, apartment-shopping so she could move out of his house.

Six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and sadly, only three kitchens later, Pam's feet ached and her heart hurt at the realization that there were hardly any apartments that fit her budget, taste, and safety expectations. There was only one apartment left to go, and at 2:15, she was already feeling that a nap would be the perfect end to her day.

Jim drove up to the apartment complex. She knew the complex well enough—Roy's brother's ex-girlfriend had lived in it before she moved away a few years ago. She knew the apartments were nice, but she'd always figured they were out of her league financially. Well, until Jim had seen the ad in the paper. She could hardly believe her ears when he told her that it was only $540 a month, well within her budget. As she stepped out of the car, she noticed a cigarette on the ground and she kicked it under his car, not wanting anything to tarnish her vision of living in Heritage Groves.

Jim squeaked past her, pulling her along behind him as they went up the stairs, checking out the apartment with the key he had gotten the day before. He entered first, as he always did. In the second apartment they'd gone to, Jim hadn't even let her come in at first, insisting that he wouldn't allow her to live in such a place. She'd scoffed at him for a moment, claiming she was a big girl, but secretly, she was thrilled by the idea that he didn't want her hurt and would only allow a certain caliber for her living arrangements.

"Oh wow, Pam, this is gorgeous," he said, flipping on the lights for her to see. She had to admit, it was nice, with the wooden floors and the beautiful cabinets. The kitchen was small, but not too small. The bedroom was painted a soft blue, not her favorite color, but not one that would keep her up at night. Even the bathroom seemed to fit nicely in her mind. She could easily see herself making the small, but comfortable place at home, hanging her artwork and pictures on the wall and making the space seem more and more Pam, and less and less... commercial.

Jim was checking out the walls and the floors, knocking on them lightly, pushing his ear against them as if to check and make sure that there were no rats crawling around inside of them that his supersonic hearing might pick up on. He was checking under the cabinets at the pipes, by the power cords, and in all of the places that any manly man would care about when he opened the screen door and went to the yard out back. There was a nice-sized piece of concrete with a small plastic table and two chairs sitting there, a grill in the corner, and a shed out in the back corner of the yard, but overall, it wasn't bad. It might not be the ideal spot, but if there was ever any reason for her to use her backyard---like painting or reading on a sunny day---it would do the trick.

"What do you think?" He asked, sticking his hands in his pocket and shrugging his shoulders, but they seemed to get caught somewhere around his chin, like they always did. His lopsided grin gave away how he felt about the apartment, and even though she felt the same way, she couldn't help but feel a bit of satisfaction as it dawned on her what he must be thinking. How proud he must be to have helped her find her apartment. Her mind laughed inside.

"I like it a lot. It's great," She said, smiling at him. He grinned and she nodded toward the door, "I'll come back tomorrow and get more information, but so far, I say it's a keeper."

She took a few steps toward the door, trailing her fingers against the wall and he followed her out, down the stairs, and to the car.

"So, A is for apartment, huh?" She asked him, laughing.

He nodded lightly, "Well, among other things."

"Other things?" She asked, staring at him. "God, what else do you have planned? Apple Jacks, Apartments?"

"Alfredo's Pizza to go."

"Why to go?"

"Because we're going to take it home and watch _Anchorman _while we eat it," he grinned, and she rolled her eyes.

"I thought you were trying to convince me men weren't scum?" she teased.

"Because we're going to take it home and watch _America's Sweethearts _while we eat it," he tried again, nonchalantly.

"That sounds better, but you still won't convince me."

"You haven't even heard my ideas for B yet," he countered, pulling into the parking lot of Alfredo's Pizza.

"Please don't tell me A is for artichokes too," she replied, sticking her finger in her mouth to indicate gagging. He laughed, walked into the restaurant, and ordered one pepperoni pizza to go.

* * *

Review, Review! Let me know of any more ideas you have, whether you liked apartment hunting (I know, kinda sad, but still) and just general, didja like it. :) 


	3. B is for Birthdays

Well, here's B. And no, I am not planning on updating this one as fast as I updated 20 Questions Plus One, but we'll see!

I just got a new job, everyone! This is a YAY because I was going to be without one for Spring semester and this is a low hour, high pay babysitting job with a kid that sleeps! Woo hoo!

Your reviews:

Kerber- Yes, you can take him home, but make sure you bring him back to me by next Saturday! I'm looking forward to reading your story!  
CoffeeObsessed- Really? I kind of see him as being the type that would want to take care of Pam first... Not to mention, he has 25 other dates to make an impression AND he can't push her too much... But hey, here's date two. It's more creative.  
Browndoggy- Close, but no cigar. Though, great idea! Thanks!  
Literati- T is for thank you!  
KT- thanks so much. glad you liked it :) And as for your questions-- I have no idea about the 15 stories, but I doubt it. I think time4moxie has more than that. Also, when documents are removed they still exist in the story. I only keep the latest chapter from each of my stories up at one time. :) Hope that helped!  
Katy- I know, I know... You love your anchorman. Haha. Maybe that will be S for Steve Carell!  
Eagle- ooh yay! I'm glad you enjoyed it. And I don't know Anchorman well at ALL. I might watch it tonight though.  
Nutmeg- Haha. Of course!  
Danny- Thanks so much! I hope Jim convinces Pam, but I have no idea. We'll see. B is for...  
Dejah- Thanks!!! what might get kind of difficult? reading? Writing? or thinking of ideas? I think I have all of my ideas now, so I'm good. Keep suggesting though because ideas can always be better (though there are some I WONT budge on!)  
Not-Complaining - I agree! Thanks!! Everyone pretty much seems to be anonymous on liking the apartment hunting :)  
Claire- I tried, but I didn't have time to put all my review responses before your third hour, so I didn't want to upload it. Pamgasm. Wow, that made me so happy! Nothing like someone quoting you from a DIFFERENT story when responding to your current one! She just doesn't know what they got... She's still completely on the just friends kick.  
Jess- glad you do! Thanks!  
Shattered- Aww, thank you! Not as frequent, but hopefully close. I have a bad problem writing out dates, so I'm hoping this will cure it! It resembles L.A. in that it has four different couples, haha. Other than that, nothing really. And it's okay, I just couldn't get into it. maybe it got better. And the dates are like dates for someone who can buy a three year old jewelry from Tiffany's because she went potty.  
Ash- Thanks!!  
CrazyNaked- Well, here's Date B!

* * *

Jim pulled into her driveway, wondering if she was anywhere close to being ready. She'd just moved into her apartment the day before, and barely at that. How was he to know if her alarm clock was still working or anything? But, that wasn't his problem. If she wasn't ready, he'd simply go inside and sit on the floor and wait for her to be ready. Besides, it wasn't like date B was going to be anything that involved a fancy designer gown or a famous diamond tiara. Honestly, she'd probably be a bit too dressed up in jeans and a t-shirt.

The stairs to her apartment seemed longer today as he thought about the date coming up. It was strange to him, taking Pam out on a date. He enjoyed it, and he enjoyed her, but for some reason, it felt a bit awkward to him. After all, he'd been pining over her for a while. He had no idea what had compelled him to suggest his new remedy for her broken heart, but when she'd sworn she'd given up men, he'd known he had to take immediate action. After all, how was he ever going to catch her if she wasn't interested in men anymore?

This certainly wasn't the way he'd always imagined taking Pam on dates, but honestly, the date thing was just a formality. He didn't really care what capacity he had Pam; he was just thankful for every moment he got to spend with her, and every Saturday for the next six months sounded like more than he could dream of. Sure, he felt some sort of pressure to make each one of the dates so utterly romantic she would swoon under his touch, but he knew that wouldn't be the best idea. He had to ease her into the idea of dating, especially the idea of dating him. Right now, she wasn't in the place for anything serious and knock-you-off-your-feet-romantic, he knew that. Now, she needed simple.

It wasn't that she wouldn't want a nice, quiet romantic evening with him. It was more that right now, he felt she needed a more simple date. The kind where he could just be himself, and she could be herself, and he could show her his love for her. Where she could see how un-scummy he was and could be in everyday life. It's easy to be polite and loving on a romantic date, but it's the simple, mundane things that turn men into what she feared most.

He felt his knuckles tap on the hard wood of the door before he even realized he was at his apartment, and it wasn't until she opened the door and smiled at him with that smile that he realized he was even there. He watched her, smiling, aware that she was probably the most beautiful girl to ever open the door of Apartment number 2b.

"Hey there," she said smiling, opening the door wider for him to enter. He ducked under her arm and into the house, smiling as he looked around. The boxes were all still on the ground, unopened, as if she hadn't even thought they might do any good opened. The only box that was opened had been broken down and set by her wastebasket for recycling, and it didn't take him long to make out the three letters that were written across it in black sharpie: ART.

He looked around the walls of the room, noticing random paintings hanging in the most thoughtful places, pictures around the mantle. He smiled as his eyes caught each paintings. There were so many, and even though he knew she would hate that he saw them, he was still mesmerized by them. Drawings of moving trains, snapshots of her friends, a painting of a little girl smelling a flower. And then a particular one caught his eye, and even though she was standing by the door, her purse in hand, the sound of her voice carrying plans to leave now that she was ready, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the drawing.

He walked across the room, over to the blank wall on the left, where they had said her couch was going to go. The drawing took him by surprise, and as he stared up at it, he couldn't help but smile. He recognized it instantly. It was a sketch of a picture of the two of them, doubled over in laughter at a hideous prank they'd played on Dwight that day. They were facing each other, their foreheads huddled in close, both of them smiling in a way that was reserved only for the two of them. He'd always loved the picture, in fact, it was framed on his desk at work. He couldn't remember who had taken the picture; he guessed it was Kelly since she'd been the one to give it to him, but he'd had no idea Pam had a copy of it. He smiled as he looked up at the drawing; it was so precise, so lifelike, he could hardly believe it was just a copy of the original picture. He loved the technique she'd used; she'd seemed to illuminate the two of them together, the background becoming dark, almost like an abyss that they had come out of. The light at the end of the tunnel.

She was walking toward him; he could feel her footsteps around him and when he looked over at her, he noticed she was blushing. "This is great," he said, looking from her to the painting. "I really like it. I like the whole coming out of black thing."

She smiled, and her voice relaxed a little bit, "Thanks, Halpert." They were silent for a moment, both of them looking at the painting, when suddenly, she spoke again, "B for black?"

He laughed. "Not even close." She smiled, and he looked over at the clock. "Oh, we have to go! We're going to be late."

She gave him a funny look, her forehead scrunching up in confusion as she followed him out the door and down the stairs to the car. "Late for what?" She asked. He unlocked the door and she climbed in, stepping around a package on the floor. "What's the package for?"

"Well, B stands for Birthday Party," he said, putting the car in reverse.

"Who's birthday party?" She asked, a bit unsure of the new date planned for her. She wasn't exactly the most extraverted person in the world, and the idea of being with a huge group of people she didn't know wasn't exactly thrilling.

"My little nephew Steve. He's turning six today. Don't worry, I don't plan on ditching you for anyone that's only three feet tall."

"But four feet would be okay?" She smiled, teasing him lightly. He laughed and winked at her, and she grinned. "Okay, so Steve the birthday boy. What did we get him? Where is this party? What is going on?"

"You are so full of questions today, Beesly," He said, laughing. She shrugged and looked out the window for a moment before turning back to him, giving him the look that told him he'd better answer her question and pronto. "We got him a purple light saber. He's really into Star Wars… Which reminds me, Dwight will be there." He glanced over at her to see if she bought it, but she only rolled her eyes in return, a small chuckle on her lips that she was determined not to let out. "The party is at the best B in town," he finished, and she looked at him skeptically.

"I find it hard to believe that your six year old nephew is having his birthday party at a bordello," she stated, her face expressionless in the way it was when they were playing pranks on Dwight.

He laughed heartily, "Nice one, Bees." She smiled and tugged on the sides of her skirt, trying to formulate the 'car curtsy' from a seated position, and although he got it, he wasn't much impressed. "I'll have you know, Queen Victoria, that it's actually at Bumper Boat Heaven. Have you ever been there?"

"No, I don't tend to play with six year old boys," she replied, her finger to her nose.

"So your name isn't Michael Jackson?" He asked, and she laughed, swatting him playfully on the arm. "Okay, well have you ever played bumper cars?"

"Who hasn't?" She asked, staring at him like he'd lost his mind. "Whenever the fair's in town, Dad and I would always team up and try and kill my Mom and Maria. It was really fun. We always got the blue car that had the number 77 on it," she replied, and then looked at him embarrassed by how in detail she'd gone with her insignificant childhood memory.

"Well," he didn't seem to notice, "It's kind of like bumper cars, except you're on water, so it's bumper boats. It's basically like a motorized jet ski, except it's shaped like a car. It's really a lot of fun, but you'll get really wet."

"Wet?" She asked, looking down at what she was wearing. "Jim! Why didn't you tell me I'd get wet?"

"I brought you an extra shirt," he shrugged, pointing to the bag by her feet. "And a towel. Toughen up, Beesly." She rolled her eyes and stared out the window as they pulled up to the site of the birthday party, huge blue and red balloons seemed to engulf the family fun land known as Bumper Boat Heaven. She noticed the huge pool set to the side, and kids running around all over, but none of it really seemed all that fun. Honestly, she'd rather be home watching reruns of _Three's Company._

"Okay, cmon," Jim said, opening his door and grabbing the present from off the ground. "Hey, you okay?"

She nodded and smiled at him, grabbing the bag he'd so thoughtfully packed in the car. "Definitely." She climbed out of the car and walked with him to a back room, where seven six year old boys and four six year old girls were running around, shooting each other with water guns and yelling out things like 'I'll get you Gary!' and 'I'm the water master!'

Jim sat the present down at the table with the gifts and led her over to where some adults were sitting. He hugged one woman, she looked a bit older than him, but not by much. Before he even had a chance to introduce her, the woman reached out her hand to Pam. "Hi, I'm Jim's sister, Janice."

Pam smiled and shook her hand, "I'm Pam, it's nice to meet you." They spoke briefly about Steve and the birthday party while Jim ran to get them some drinks, but overall, it was simple polite banter back and forth. Pam figured Jim must have told Janice about their just friends dates, or else she'd have been questioning them non-stop.

When he finally returned to her side and handed her a Diet Coke, she thanked him and he leaned over and whispered in her ear, "I heard one of the little boys say that you were cute." She looked back at him and he raised his eyebrows, nodding his head toward a small boy with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She laughed and rolled her eyes.

"A little too old for me, Halpert," She replied, grinning. He laughed, his eyes widening at the mere suggestion that she'd sink that low. He was about to respond when all thirteen of the kids came barreling up the stairs, demanding sugar and pizza and presents. It didn't take long for the presents to become unwrapped and the pizza to be scarfed down. The fast pace of the birthday party was kind of nice, and even though Pam wouldn't admit it out loud, she was beginning to enjoy herself, at least a little bit.

"So, tell me," Jim said, leaning toward her and pointing with his eyes, "What do you think about this kid picking his nose over here?" She laughed and swatted him upside the head, putting on her best mom voice.

"Be nice, James." She scolded, throwing him a wink. He laughed, feeling a strange sensation inside his stomach at the simple idea that she'd even winked at him. "Is it almost time for bumper boats?" She asked, and even though she was embarrassed to admit it, she was really excited about the prospect of bumper boats. Sometimes, it was fun to be a little kid again.

"Excited, Beesly?" He asked, and she laughed at him and nodded slightly, shrugging her shoulders. He laughed along with her, "Yeah, we'll go get our tickets now," he said. She grinned and they got up, heading toward the counter where the tickets were distributed. He bought two tickets and they headed outside where the sunny weather seemed even sunnier at the pure torture of a pool right in front of their eyes, yet so far away from their senses.

The attendant at the ride was taking the last two people for that round when they walked up, but when she started to walk through the door, Jim pulled her back. "We'll hop in the next round," he said to the attendant, closing the door in front of him. She looked at him quizzically, and he shrugged. "The blue car is taken."

She looked over at the bumper boats noticing he was right. The only blue car was taken, and even though she rolled her eyes in front of him, she knew a smile was forming on the corners of her lips.

The game seemed to last forever as they waited in the hot sun. Hit after hit she heard kids squealing, parents scolding, and she could almost feel the splash of the water against her skin. She smiled as she watched them, glad she'd come today. She'd never even knew such a thing as Bumper Boats existed, let alone that she'd be able to partake in such an activity at 28. When the horn finally sounded for the game to end, she danced on her feet happily, deciding to just forget about her embarrassment to be so excited at a simple game of motor boat colliding. The kids piled out and she raced toward the blue boat, climbing in. Jim followed her for a moment, but she knew it wouldn't be nearly as much fun with him in the boat.

She put her feet up on the passenger side, smirking at him. He looked over at the line, as if he wanted some sort of clear indication that she couldn't do this, but there were only a few kids waiting, and he sighed, hopping in the red boat just beside her.

"B is for butthead," he said, a gasp coming from the boat next to hers.

"YOU SAID BUTTHEAD!" The six year old screamed, her eyes wide. Pam couldn't help but giggle as the young girl tattled on Jim but when the horn sounded and the boats began to move, all thoughts of buttheads and tattletales left and she was struck with a sudden desire to school Jim in the art of bumper boats.

She drove the car through the water, hitting random six-year-olds on her journey to becoming the great bumper boat champion of Steve's party, her eyes only focused on one prize. Knocking the red boat down to the bottom. She felt a slight jab on the left side of the boat and she turned to look, seeing Jim's lopsided grin. She rolled her eyes, "That was lame, Halpert. I'll show you how to hit. You better watch out." He grinned and spun off in the other direction, keeping a careful eye on her as he bumped a few six year old boys.

She grinned and spun around until her back was to him, waiting for him to turn around as the middle of the pool cleared out. Just as he started to turn, she stepped on the gas, hard, propelling herself toward him quickly. When he was facing her, her boat was moving fast and he barely had time to register that she was coming toward him before their boats collided. He lurched forward, huge waves of water crashing all over him as she laughed, pumped her fists in the air. "Victory!" she yelled, and when he looked up, he knew he looked like a wet dog.

"I hate you," he said, grinning, drenched in the water, as she sped away from him. He followed her with his eyes, turning his boat around to face hers and stepped on the gas, trying to hit her as hard as she hit him. She could feel him coming towards her with great speed, so she sat in her boat, her arms covering her body, biting her lip and watching him with anticipation. Just as he got to the point of no return, the horn sounded and the boats motors shut off, and Jim's boat stopped just inches away from her.

He stared at her in disbelief for a moment, and then she smiled, a small laugh escaping her lips. He laughed as well, the pure irony of it all not being lost on him. As they steered their way back to the dock, he got out first and then helped her out, taking her hand and leading her over to the bag where the towels were. She pulled a lime green one out of the bag and wrapped it around herself and he smiled, pulling the dark blue one out of the bag and following suit.

"The party's about over, what do you say we sit down and get dried off for a bit?" He asked, and she nodded, following him over to a small bridge overlooking a man-made pond at the edge of the property. She let her feet dangle over the sides of the bridge, and she watched them, mesmerized by the even swing they seemed to have. She rested her hands on her legs and smiled.

"I've had fun today," she said, smiling. He smiled back at her and nodded, and she smiled down at her feet. "I, uh…" He looked up at her, a smiling, but concerned look on his face. She smiled back lightly. "It won't ruin the date if I talk, will it?" She asked, half-teasing.

He shook his head lightly, "Not a chance. What's up?"

"Well, I don't really want to go too far into it," she said, holding her own hand and intertwining her fingers. She kicked her feet out lightly and took a breath, "but I want you to know what happened… You know, with Roy and me." She kept her eyes straight ahead, but she could feel him moving next to her, and for a moment, she wondered if he was about to get up and leave, but when she turned toward him, he'd just pulled his feet up and was now sitting cross-legged on the bridge, facing her, his hands folded in his lap as if he couldn't wait to hear what she had to say.

"Well," she started, looking at her feet and scrunching up her eyebrows. He studied her face for a moment, and he knew she was trying to figure out how to say what it was she wanted to say. He could tell it took a lot for her to finally tell him what had happened. She'd never said so specifically, but he knew that somewhere down in her heart she believed it had been her fault. He'd made her think she wasn't pretty enough, or smart enough. Jim hated that about Roy. He was always making Pam feel that she was less than she was.

He'd felt that way with her artwork. When he'd seen all of her amazing portraits earlier at her apartment, he'd been flabbergasted. He'd known she was good from the simple sketches she'd done on napkins and computer paper in the random minutes of the day, but when she put her mind and effort to her artwork, it floored him what she could accomplish. When he looked into her eyes after he'd seen her painting, he could see the shock that had accumulated there. He could just imagine her, younger, maybe in her early twenties or even still in high school, running up to Roy to show him her newest piece and him just completely putting her down about it. Telling her she wasn't good. Looking at her art, he couldn't stand Roy for all he'd lied to her about.

"Well, you know, I'd told Roy that I was going to go out and meet Kelly for drinks that night and that I wouldn't be back until late. He said that was fine and that he would just go out with Kenny and all would be better… Well, Kelly didn't show up for drinks because Ryan wanted her to go out to dinner and so she called me while I was waiting at the bar, and so I decided I'd go home and maybe surprise Roy with a pizza." He nodded, and she looked up at him, as if trying to convince herself he was still listening, looking for some encouragement to go on.

She let out a light puff of air from her lips. "Well, I went by Barnaby's and grabbed a pepperoni and green peppers pizza. His favorite, I don't really care for them," she looked up and he smiled at her, touching her shoulder lightly and she returned his smile, chuckling lightly. "So, I walk in the house, drop the pizza on the counter and head upstairs because I can hear him up there watching TV.

"Well, I show up in the doorway and start talking to him and he jumped about halfway in the air and dropped his beer on the ground, saying I'd scared him, startled him, whatever," she flipped her hand around in the air nonchalantly, as if she didn't care about this part of the story, the more important parts were coming up.

"So anyway, he drops his beer to the ground and gets out of bed and I tell him I'll clean it up because there's pizza downstairs. So he nods and disappears to go get us the pizza, and I go to clean up the pieces of the glass, and I see this pink, frilly…" She paused, as if she wasn't sure how to describe it. "Contraption?" She chuckled lightly. "I don't know, it was like this weird piece of lingerie with all of the straps and cords and see through pieces and everything… So I reach under the bed and pull it out, and I'm just staring at it when he walks into the bedroom with some pizza and a new beer, and I look up at him, and he's just staring at me.

"Doesn't even say anything, he's just staring," she said, her face registering somewhere between anger and confusion, but more on the confusion side, and it reminds him of someone who is just recounting events that she can't understand, like a friend who said the wrong thing at the wrong time; it's not the face of a woman who is recounting the story of how she and her fiancée broke off their engagement. "So finally, I, of course, am the one that speaks first, and I ask him what it is, and you know what he says to me?" She laughs, a deep incredulous laugh that is tinted with an anger he's never heard in her before.

She looks at him and he shakes his head lightly, and she goes on. "He says, 'Don't you recognize it baby? You looked great in it the other night.' Can you believe that? He can't even keep track of which…" She looks around, choosing her words among the audience at Bumper Boat Heaven and lowers her voice, "girl he's fucked in what."

He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know whether he should put his arm around her and comfort her while she cries, or whether he should let her talk it out, albeit angrily. Everything seems strange and foreign to him, and for the first time since the fiasco started two weeks ago, he really has no idea if he's able to handle this. If he can even help her. But when she opens her mouth to speak again, it's like all of those thoughts fade away and the only thing that matters is she's in front of him, and she's telling him.

"So, I yell at him and throw it in his face and tell him he's not mine, and he, of course, acts shocked. So I roll my eyes—you know how I do that—tell him it's over and he yells at me a bit and we have our little screaming match, and while we're doing it, I'm packing my bags and zipping up my suitcase and heading downstairs, and when we get to the door, I tell him goodbye, and I ask him, just because I need to know, how many there were."

His eyes go wide at the last question, and he almost doesn't want her to say it. He doesn't want to know because he knows that's the kind of question that when answered destroys her. And he doesn't want to know how much she's destroyed, but at the same time, he just wants to take some of it away from her.

"You know what he said to me, Jim?" She asked, pulling her feet up to her chest and turning to face him. He shakes his head slightly and she looks at him for a minute and then looks back over at the water. "He said, 'I can't keep track'. I can't keep track."

He swallows, and when she looks up at him, there are tears in her eyes. He reaches over to her and puts his arm around her shoulder, unsure of what to say. Finally, he says the only thing he can think to say, "I don't blame you for thinking men are scum."

She stares ahead for a moment, as if she didn't hear him, and then she turns to him and laughs, her laughter radiating from somewhere deep inside of her. It's a pure laugh, the kind that comes without any regard to what was actually said, or the meaning behind things or the circumstances of life, it's just there. As if that moment is the only thing existing and whatever he said was the funniest, most heart-warming thing in the world. She stands up, offering her hand to him and he takes it, standing up himself and leading her out to the car after saying goodbye to Steve and Janice.

The car ride home is silent, but it is a comfortable silence. He marvels at the way they can do that. Sit in silence and be so comfortable with each other. There is no need to talk with them, it's as if they can communicate just through sitting there, and he likes that. When they get to the apartment, he walks her up to the top. As she opens the door, he points at the knocker on the door. "B," he says, and she laughs.

"A is for apartment, B is for bumper boats…" she trails off, leaning against the door, laughing. "C is for coloring?"

"No."

"C is for California?"

He chuckled. "No."

"C is for Kickball?"

He raised his eyebrow and looked at her, and for a minute she didn't seem to register why. Then her face turned bright red and she bit on her lip, looking down at the floor. He smiled, "Yeah, Beesly, C is for kickball." He let out a small chuckle, and when she looked up, he'd already started walking back to his car, and she went inside, closing the door behind her, and pulled out her sketchpad to draw.

* * *

Review please!! 


	4. C is for Kickball

I'm really hoping the reason I got so few reviews on the last chapter was the bug in the system and not that you all didn't like it. Please let me know when you review this chapter what you thought of the last one, too, if your review didn't go through. Thanks!!

You guys, seriously, though, have blown me away with reviews. 40 reviews in three chapters is phenomenal, and what's even more phenomenal is those of you who have PMd or IMd me to let me know what you thought when reviews were down. Thanks so much! I love hearing from you, and I really like doing the PM and IMs in addition because I feel like I get to know you guys. So thanks. :)

Now, the reviews:

Literati- Oh brother! Thanks!!!  
Houseoffice- If you loved C is for kickball, you'll love this chapter! lol. :) Thanks for your review--you have great thoughts!  
Eagle- Sorry, I've got him for this date. You can have him for the next one! Lol.  
Kerber- bumper boats awesome. I love it, love it, love it!

Now for me, C is for cleaning. GrRR.

* * *

Pam walked into the kitchen, opening the freezer door and pulling out the half-empty carton of vanilla ice cream. She pulled the lid off and stared into the carton. She quickly grabbed as spoon out of the drawer under her microwave and walked into the living room, plopping down on the couch and turning the TV on, flipping through the channels to find the best late night TV. It was a guilty pleasure, and something she wouldn't tell anyone else, but every Friday night she always stayed up and watched the old reruns of _Three's Company _at 1 AM. It was only 11:57 now, so she had an hour before they started to kill time with Ben, Jerry, and it looked like Arnold, Willis, and the rest of the cast of _Different Strokes._

She took a bite of the ice cream, cursing as some of it melted off her spoon and landed with a plop on her thigh, the sticky liquid pulling her shorts to her legs. She groaned, but settled into the couch as she heard Arnold's voice, "Whatchyou talkin' bout Willis?" She was in the middle of laughing at some silly thing he'd done when she heard a loud knock at her door.

She glanced at her watch. 12:07. Who would be knocking on her door at 12:07? She got up off the couch and walked over to the door, looking out the peephole to see Jim standing there, his eyes darting around. She opened the door, glancing down at her lovely ensemble.

"Hey," she said, and he straightened up, smiling.

"Hey. You're not ready to go," he stated, as if she had no idea.

"Uh yeah… I don't remember you telling me our date started at midnight," she smiled, and he laughed as she opened the door, letting him in.

"Ice cream and Arnold, nice choices Beesly," he said grinning. She shrugged.

"Whatchyou talkin' bout Jim?" He laughed and she smiled, picking up the carton of vanilla ice cream and taking it back to the freezer, turning off the TV on her way out. "So, what are we doing here?" she called from the kitchen, and he laughed.

"Right now I'm waiting for you to go get dressed. I'll just wait," he said as she walked back in, for the first time noticing that he was dressed in an old high school basketball T-shirt and gym shorts, his running shoes on his feet. She wrinkled her forehead in confusion.

"You want me to wear that," she said, her hand showcasing his outfit like Vanna White did the big board on _Wheel of Fortune_.

He looked at her, offended. "What's wrong with my outfit?" She laughed, looking down at her feet and blushing. "No, I don't want you to wear this," he said, his face going serious.

"Um, okay... So…" she trailed off, glancing down the hallway toward her room.

"I want you to wear your own clothes," he said, and she giggled, covering her mouth as the high-pitched sounds came out. She picked up a pillow and hit him over the head with it.

"Hey, don't mess up my hair," he whined, grabbing the back of his head and winking at her. She rolled her eyes, laughing and headed down the hallway to her bedroom.

When she came out only a few minutes later in a pair of running shorts and an old Scranton Art in the Park t-shirt. She was hopping down the hall, pulling her shoe over her heel, laughing. "I might need some C is for Coffee if we're really going to be doing something now."

"Oh, we're not. I just wanted to come to your house at midnight and keep you from your ice cream. I'm gonna go now," he said, standing up and playfully walking toward the door.

"Shut up," she said, laughing as she followed after him. "Now, where are we going?"

"We're going to get coffee," he said, looking at her as if she was an idiot to not know that. She smiled and followed him out the door, locking it behind her. "I can't believe I agreed to this. You never said anything about midnight dates."

He shrugged and they headed down the stairs. He walked over ot the door of his car and opened it, and as she slid in, she heard him say, "C for Corolla."

She rolled her eyes as he climbed in his side of the car, pulling out and driving. "Are you a gas station coffee drinker, or do you need your tall-no-soy-no-fat-white-mocha-vanilla-frappuccino-no-whip-hold-the-coffee from Starbucks?"

"How did you know my drink order?" she feigned surprise, her hands flying to her chest. He stared at her for a moment, as if unsure if she was kidding, before she burst into giggles, hand against her chest as she laughed. "Gas station coffee is fine. I drink black."

"You do not!" he laughed.

"Sometimes I do! I don't really like it, but when people see me drinking black coffee they know they can't mess with me. I'll kick their ass," she nodded matter-of-factly.

He rolled his eyes, "Should I call you Sempai Beesly?"

"Please." She nodded, as he whipped the car into the parking spot and raced in, coming back out a few moments later with two coffees. She grinned.

"Savior!" She said smiling, reaching for the steaming cup and inhaling it quickly. "Mmmm." He drove through the back roads of town as she sipped not only her coffee, but his as well. Finally, he pulled up to a dimly lit baseball field. She wrinkled her forehead, a confused look on her face.

"What are we doing?" She asked, bewildered.

"You don't remember? You came up with it," he said, chuckling. She looked at him blankly for a moment before breaking out into a huge grin.

"You suck." He laughed and she got out of the car, putting her coffee back in the cup holder. "But you know, Kickball doesn't start with C."

He made a show of snapping his fingers and then replied sarcastically, "Oh darn. I guess my plan is ruined." She laughed and rolled her eyes, following him as he walked to the trunk of his car. The trunk opened and he reached inside, pulling out a bright blue kickball and handing it to her.

"How are we going to play kickball with only two players?" She asked.

"Who said there were only two players?" he asked, pulling out a life-size cutout of David Beckham. She gasped, laughing as he set it down on the ground, before pulling out a sequence of others, until there were ten different cutouts. She was glad they were all labeled, otherwise, she wasn't sure she'd know half of them.

"We have to pick teams," he said, smiling. "Since you're the lady, you can pick first."

"Um… David Beckham." She said, walking over to him and picking him up.

"Okay, then I'm going to take the great Wayne Gretzky," he said, grinning.

"Wasn't he a hockey player?" she asked. "I don't think that will help you much in kickball." He gave her a stare, and she quickly walked over to the soccer player with brown hair, reading the number 9 off her shirt. "Umm," she said, squinting at the name. "I've got Mia Hamm."

"Wow, you're all about the soccer players today, aren't you?" he asked and she shook her head.

"David plays football, Jim. Duh." He laughed and rolled his eyes, going over to pick up Anna Kournikova in her short tennis outfit.

"You would." She grinned. "I've got A-Rod."

"Tiger Woods for me," he said.

"Um… I'll take Michelle Kwan."

"Hec Gervais, the great curling legend," he said, and she gasped.

"You're so mean! I can't believe you did that!"

"What? You took the two soccer players," he retorted, and she huffed.

"I can't believe you're making me choose between Meredith and Creed to be on my team. And my god, those are the worst cutouts ever… Meredith doesn't even have a hand! She can't be a valuable player without a hand!"

"It was hard to find one where she wasn't holding a drink!" he defended himself, and she stared at him for a moment before laughing.

"You're horrible. And I'll take Creed…."

Jim's eyes went wide, and for a moment she realized what she'd said could be misconstrued, but she laughed it off. "Yeah, I'll take Creed," she said again, winking at Jim. She picked her cutouts up, one-by-one, and placed them on the field in various locations, laughing the entire time at how ridiculous she was being. The only thought that comforted her was that she was sure Jim had looked even more ridiculous getting the huge cutouts in the first place.

She walked over to the pitchers mound, hugging the ball against her hip as she waited for him to set up his players on the bench. "Oh come on Halpert! Get your ass up here."

He shot her a bemused look and took a steady stroll to the plate, standing on top of it. "Anything goes?"

She gave him a grin and nodded, licking her lips. "Anything goes." With that, she pulled her arm back and pitched the ball, watching it bounce along the path. Jim took a few steps forward and kicked it, the ball soaring through the air as he ran toward first base, hitting A-Rod right in the face. Pam scurried to get the ball, and threw it at him, hitting him in the shin just a moment before he hit the base.

He groaned. "See you're not worth all those millions they're paying you, Rod." He said, jogging back to home plate and taking his stance again.

"Not uh," she said, grinning, wagging her finger. "I would like to see The Great One up to kick please. And yes, he has to do his own running."

"But—" Jim started, but she interrupted, putting her finger up.

"Jim, this isn't third grade. He didn't stub his toe. I think he can handle a little running." Jim groaned and Pam pitched the ball toward Gretzky, watching it bounce off his skates. She ran after the ball and laughed as she heard Jim grunting, carrying Gretzky as fast as he could down the baseline to rest on first. She laughed and through the ball at the cutout as hard as she could, and as soon as she heard it hit the wood she knew what was coming.

Jim toppled to the ground, laughing and she smiled and ran over to him, pulling Gretzky off from on top of him, thinking about how "That's what she said!" would apply to even her own thoughts. She helped Jim up, pushed the ball to his stomach, and lined up at home plate, momentarily forgetting about her men.

"What about your teammates?" he asked, pointing at the players behind him in a Field of Dreams type way.

"Eh, screw 'em. I don't need 'em," Pam replied, and Jim raised his eyebrows. "I was the champion kickballer in fifth grade."

"Oh, well, there's a new champion today," he said, rolling the ball toward her. She grinned, watching it come, pacing her feet as she ran up to kick it. She pulled her foot back and plunged it against the ball, sending it flying over Jim's head. She started running, watching it as it bounced back toward the outfield, taking an unpleasant bounce against Michelle Kwan. She'd just rounded second when she saw Jim pick up the ball, and she knew she'd have to book it to make it home in time. She was never one to stop on a base. With her, it was nothing, or everything. He watched her reach third, sure she would slow down, but when she didn't, he quickly booked it toward home.

She saw him running toward home plate out of the corner of her eye, and she picked up the speed. He held on tight to the ball and ran as fast as he could, sure he would make it there before she did. As they neared the plate, it became pretty obvious it would be a tossup. Pam remembered her years of fast-pitch softball in high school and keeping Jim in the corner of her eye, she judged the distance away from the plate, bringing her left leg up to make a four at the crease of her knees and leaning her body back slightly as she slid toward the plate.

Jim lunged forward, trying to beat her to the plate, when all of a sudden, he saw her get suddenly shorter as she landed on her butt, sliding against the clay toward the plate. He tried to stop to avoid running into her, but his momentum was too great, and just as both of their feet reached the plate, Jim's shoe collided with her thigh and he went toppling on top of her.

At first, neither of them said anything as they both lay against the clay, the white powder of the baseline in their hair. Then, all of a sudden, Jim heard a soft giggle from next to him and he looked over at her, watching her face explode with laughter. She was clutching her sides to keep from laughing so hard and he smiled, laughing along with her just at the mere excitement he felt to even hear her laughing.

He quickly got up, extending his hand to her and she took it, standing up and wiping her butt off. "1 point Beesly, 0 points Halpert," she said, and although he shot her a look of disbelief, she just grinned and he knew that was the score, whether he liked it or not. She grinned.

"You know what might be really fun?" he asked, and she looked up at him quizzically.

"Let's leave the cutout men here. I know there is a Little League tournament here in the morning. We can drive by and see what happens."

She covered her mouth and looked out on the field, seeing all of the athletes other than Wayne Gretzky standing proud in the field. She nodded and quickly ran toward the car, and he laughed, picking up the ball and running after her. He jumped into the car and started it quickly, putting it in reverse and speeding away like they'd just robbed a bank.

* * *

They pulled up to Cuginos at close to 2 A.M, the doors locked and a sign on the front informing everyone they were officially closed. This wasn't new to Jim—Cuginos had always been a strictly 11 to 11 restaurant. For some reason, it surprised Pam to see they closed before 2. For some reason, 2 didn't seem so late anymore. 

"That stinks," she said as they pulled in, thoroughly upset. "I was really hoping they'd be open."

He shrugged and reached into his backseat. "Get out of the car, please." She obeyed, looking at him quizzically for a moment before he got out of the car, holding a quilt, two plastic bowls, two plastic spoons, a box of Cap'n Crunch, and two kindergarten cartons of milk. She laughed as he spread the quilt over the hood of his car and put the ingredients down before taking her hand and helping her up on the hood. He quickly joined her, poured her a bowl of Cap'n Crunch, handed her the carton of milk, and crossed his feet.

"So, does C stand for cutlery, Cap'n Crunch, Corollas, cereal, or Cuginos?" She asked, pretending to be confused.

"Um, none of the above. C only stands for kickball." She laughed under her breath. "Just Cuginos."

"Why Cuginos?" she asked, thinking she already knew the answer.

"Well, Cuginos is where we became friends. I thought it was fitting." She smiled.

"I can't remember the last time somebody poured my cereal for me," she said, grinning. He rolled his eyes, inwardly chuckling as the memories of their day on the roof came back to him. She finished eating her cereal and just as the last bite entered her mouth, a soft yawn escaped her lips. She tried to stifle it, but he caught it.

"C also stands for catnap." She smiled gratefully, opening her mouth to give her excuse, but he waved her off. "I'll come by around 7:40 so we can go see our friends play ball with the little leaguers, but we wont stay long. You need your beauty rest."

She smiled, waiting until he was done with his breakfast and then hopped off the car, picking up the components of their date. He drove her home carefully, but quickly, and as she climbed the stairs to her apartment, she couldn't help but think how cutout kickball and cereal on the roof of a car was so much better than Jack, Janet and Cindy.

* * *

Review please!!! Also, if you haven't already, go read Katy and I's story One Fine Day. You might like it! You guys are the best. Seriously. :) I love our little community we've all formed. Hah.

Also, on a really personal and unrelated note. A good friend of mine got in a bad motorcycle accident this past week. He was lifeflighted to a nearby hospital, is on a ventilator right now and unable to pass the test to get off. He had a massive stroke yesterday morning; they performed brain surgery on him all day yesterday. He lived through the surgery, but the doctors think that he'll be paralyzed in at least the left side of his brain. So, please keep him in your thoughts (and prayers, if you believe in them). Thanks. -AG


	5. D is for DingDongs

Thanks so much for all the reviews, guys. You all are just wonderful. I also want to say a special thanks for all of your prayers/thoughts/well wishes for my friend Alan. He had another stroke right after I posted on Friday, and his brain was extremely swollen this morning, but we held a prayer service at my church and within an hour of when we started praying the swelling decreased. The doctors are sure that his left side will be paralyzed unless there is an ultra miracle, but we're all just glad he's still alive. Thanks so much for all of your prayers, and please, keep them coming. I really appreciate it.

And here is your D chapter... I hope you all like it. :) Thanks to elly for beta'ing.

Reviews:

KT- Well, D is not for Jenna's old job. And I'm not going to have them go to a psychic, either, but it is pretty cool. I think, at least... Anyway, thanks!  
HP- I'm glad you liked it! And can you just imagine showing up for your little league game and seeing Michelle Kwan in the outfield? LOL.  
Elly- Eh, I don't really know... And thanks about the 20 Qs. I'm blown away!  
Smiling- Well, who doesn't love a good A-Rod insult?  
NakedLight- Threes Company is freaking awesome. As is The Client (starts with a C... hmm..) and wouldn't you love to play kickball with one handed meredith?  
Literati- Haha!  
Alison- I'm glad you loved the chapter!! Jim is such a dork, as evidened again in this chapter, but also, the advent of Pam being even dorkier. And thanks for the prayers!  
Alice- I'm glad you love it.  
Dancer- Here's D! Thanks for the prayers, I appreciate it.  
Dean- Thanks!! Hope you enjoy the next part of the process.  
Katy- Oh God, I know. Thanks for the prayers, love. And where have you dissapeared to?  
Small Tuna- Thanks so much. I really appreciate it... And I'm glad you loved the chapter, and I find it such an inspiration and compliment that I changed your preconceived ideas! Wow! And SOOO FUNNY about your spanish exchange student!  
Kerber- I LOVE hockey! What's your team? I'm a Canes fan. And I cant wait to read your work!  
Dejah- I didn't mix them up, I just never elaborated on what Jim was doing. Sorry if it was confusing!  
CoffeeObsessed- Three's Company is amazing. (Wouldn't that be a fun story to cross with!) I'm glad you liked this chapter. And thanks!  
Shattered- It takes different strokes to move the world, yes it does!  
Eagle- Curling. Oh man. What a weird sport! Not nearly as cool as Flonkerton! Hah... And thanks for the prayers!  
Unfolding- I'm so glad you like it! I love timid Pam... I love watching her break out of her shell in stories. :) Thanks for the thoughts/prayers.  
Claire- Don't you want to go on that date? I do!! And thanks!  
BD- Ahh, okay! Well, thanks!! Midnight is so fun. And Pam with her melted ice cream on her leg. Hah! Don't we all do that? Thanks so much for the thoughts/prayers!

* * *

Jim's fingers tapped on the steering wheel of the Corolla lightly, trying to match the rhythm of "Hey Mickey" with the radio as he waited for Pam to come down. He'd called ahead this time to let her know he was on his way, and she'd insisted that he'd stay in his car for some reason she didn't fully explain. Something about her apartment being a mess… he hadn't really been listening. He checked his backseat one more time, making sure all of the necessary date elements were there.

He looked up to see her bounding down the stairs, blue jeans, a pretty purple blouse, and her hair swept up in a ponytail. She always looked beautiful in his eyes, but there was something about her today that pulled him into some sort of daze. It might have been that she was giving him a huge smile as she bounced down the stairs. When she opened the door, he could already hear her talking to him.

"Hello Prince Charming, are you coming to whisk me way to my ball?" She grinned, leaning in and giving him the European kiss on the cheek. She settled back into her seat and bounced lightly.

"Wow, somebody's a little high on life," he laughed. She was buckling her seatbelt and he turned to her, "Or are we high on something else? D is for Dope?"

She swatted his arm. "Dope is a depressant, retard."

He laughed. "So, why are you so happy anyway?"

She grinned and reclined back in the seat, putting her feet on the dashboard as he drove down the familiar streets. "I'm just excited," she said, grinning and he could tell she was biting her lip just a bit.

"Ah, so you're enjoying yourself…" he trailed off, giving her the know-it-all look she despised so much.

"You're still scum, but you're not fungus…" she said, grinning as she looked out the window. He continued to watch her, alternating his eyes from her to the road, when he saw her face visibly depress. "No…" She stated.

"No what?" he asked, turning onto a new street.

"We are not going there. No. No. No." She said, her face getting more and more frightened the more familiar the drive got.

He pulled into the Dunder-Mifflin parking lot. "D is for Dunder." She stared at him for a moment and then put her face in her hands and sighed loudly.

"Just when I was beginning to believe again!" She shrieked, and he laughed, reaching behind her to grab a few DVDs. She sobered up eventually, finally asking, "What's with the huge white sheet?" She pointed at the sheet, draped over the side of the building. He'd parked right in front of it.

"Okay, we're going to play a little game. Have you seen Grease?"

"Duh," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Who hasn't?"

"Okay, well, finish the lyric: Stranded at the . Branded a fool. What will they say Monday at school?"

"Drive-in? Stranded at the drive-in." She said, clapping her hands. "A drive-in! I've never been to a drive-in!" He laughed, and she turned to him, mock-serious. "You're not going to get me pregnant, are you?"

His eyes went wide. "Woah! D is for 'dare to dream'." She laughed and hit him again, as the music started playing outside the car.

"How are you doing that?"

"I'm magical. Like Dumbledore. I can make things start and end at will," he replied, and she rolled her eyes.

"What are we watching?" She asked, smiling.

He turned on his announcer voice, "Ladies and Gentleman. Tonight's showing will be the 2006 film _The DaVinci Code,_ staring Tom Hanks. This drama will run 149 minutes. We ask that you please turn off all cellular devices, babies, and refrain from shouting across the theater. Please keep your hands and arms inside the vehicle at all times."

She smiled, twiddling her thumbs, then cocked her head to the side and looked up at him. "I can't believe you're brave enough to show The DaVinci Code at a place where Angela frequents. You're going to hell, Halpert."

He laughed, scooting his chair backwards. "We also have Ding-Dongs, Dots, Devil Cremes—to celebrate our descent," he raised his eyebrows at her and she giggled, "Dale and Thomas popcorn, and of course, Diet Dr. Pepper. Not because you need Diet, but just because it starts with D." She rolled her eyes, and laughed as he pulled a huge box of random snacks to the front seat. She grinned and grabbed some popcorn, turning her attention to the movie.

"I've never seen this movie," she said, opening the can of Dr. Pepper. "I was always too scared Angela would take a machete to my head."

"I'll protect you," he whispered. "Now shh. It's starting."

They watched ahead as an old man was running down the corridors of an old museum, a man with a hooded sweatshirt behind him. Pam squinted at the movie, and then clapped her hands together and pointed, "Look! It's the Louvre. I would looooove to go to the Louvre," she sighed, and Jim turned and looked at her, putting his finger to his lip. She covered her mouth and giggled softly, turning her eyes back to the movie.

She watched silently for a while, until they saw Robert Langdon in the elevator, saying he was claustrophobic. "Why is he claustrophobic?" Pam asked, leaning in to Jim. "Does it matter that he's claustrophobic? Do I need to remember that."

Jim turned and shot her a look, shrugging, and she pouted, sinking back into her seat. Her outbursts became more and more frequent as the movie went on—during one scene at the beginning when Langdon and his new friend Sophie had gotten in a car chase, she'd been jumping up and down next to him, yelling "GO! GO! GO FASTER!!!! THEY'RE GOING TO CATCH YOU!!!" She'd knocked all of the popcorn off her lap at the time, but was still shoveling Dots into her mouth, making her annunciation not only a little, but a lot off. He rolled his eyes in her general direction, knowing full-well she wouldn't catch on.

During one scene of the movie, Sophie and Langdon were in the bank depository when the "evil guys"—as Pam called them—had come into the depository, chasing after them. Pam leaned into Jim, and whispered, "Are they going to get caught? What are they doing? What is that? What's going to happen."

Jim leaned back, somewhat frustrated, and whispered back to her, "I don't know, Pam. Why don't we watch and find out together?" She shut up immediately and sat back in her seat, pulling her knees to her chest. He looked over at her and noticed her position, and immediately, he started to feel bad. He hadn't had any reason to be cross with her. She was only excited. He'd hurt her feelings, something he'd never wanted to do. He sighed, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She looked so helpless, her chin resting on her knees as she watched the movie ahead. She was so quiet that he missed her constant outbursts.

As the characters entered the house of Langdon's old teacher, Jim couldn't help himself. "Wow, that's really interesting. Did you know any of that?" He said, looking over at Pam as the professor explained all of the parts of the Da Vinci piece. She nodded and looked up at him, smiling lightly.

"It's pretty basic knowledge," she said, and he laughed. "You're just retarded." She laughed and he smiled. Right then, he saw the professor stricken and his eyes went wide, his fists clench.

"MOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He yelled at the screen. His eyes were glued as he watched the scene unfold, but he could feel Pam's eyes on him. He turned and looked at her, and noticed she was smiling, her head cocked against her knees.

"What?" He asked, smirking.

She turned back toward the movie, opened her mouth and yelled, "MOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" before bursting into a fit of laughter. He watched her, at first resenting her impression of him in his weakest moment, but then, after a moment, he joined in laughing with her.

The rest of the movie went by quickly, each of them yelling at the screen, talking out loud throughout the movie. Jim was sure that they hadn't really grasped any part of the movie completely from the conversations they'd held throughout, but he hadn't minded. He smiled when he thought of how Pam was such a little kid, unable to control herself even in front of a TV. She couldn't even make it through five minutes of a movie without questions.

As the closing credits rolled, Jim reached into the backseat, bringing up four DVD cases. "What should our second movie be?" He asked, and she raised one eyebrow, smiling.

"Oh, we're having a movie marathon?" She grinned, clapping to herself, pulling her legs up to sit Indian-style on the seat. "Let me see them!"

He held up the four DVDs. "We've got, _Dodgeball, Dazed and Confused_—which I know we both like because it's our desert island movie--, _Dr. Doolittle, _and, the one I think you'll pick, _Dirty Dancing." _

She grinned, putting her finger against her chin and thinking for a moment. "Question." She stated. He rolled his eyes. "Am I allowed to talk during the movie?"

He smiled, "Fact: Yes."

She grinned. "Dirty Dancing, baby! And don't be surprised if I quote every single line!" He rolled his eyes. _Oh brother._

* * *

And there you have it! Fabulous D. Please review!!! 


	6. E is for Elfs

Well, here's chapter E, written at 3 AM. Special thanks to Elly and Katy for beta'ing for me. You guys rock.

Reviews:  
Elly- Thanks darling! E is for...  
Alice- Haha! I've actually never seen Dirty Dancing!  
Kerber- Thanks a bunch! Here's more!  
Alison- Thank you dahling, thank you. Hope you love this one too.  
Browndoggy- Oh I know. He's adorable. I'm glad you can imagine it. Sorry you had a crappy day.  
Unfolding- Thanks! I just write like they tell me to in my head. Scary, huh?  
Katy- I know, he's adorable. And I know you would have picked those first, but sadly, I did not...  
Small Tuna- I still haven't seen it, lol... This one is much longer, I hope it floats your fancy!!! And, my friend is doing really not okay now... Last night they said he might not make it through the night. I haven't heard anything else on that yet, but he's in a coma and having all sorts of problems.  
Maddi- Yeah, well... She comes out of her shell with Jim, so... And why would I tell you how it'll end up? Even I don't know that!  
KT- I'm glad you liked it!  
Eagle- hope this one continues the trend!  
BigTuna- I'm glad you've grown to like it! Hopefully you'll continue to. :) I can't promise anything on Diary--I'm taking a bit of a break on it. Maybe after Christmas I'll get back into it, but right now I need time to just reevaluate and focus...  
MissTv- I'm glad you liked it!  
Henantz- Hehe. You think I don't know Kiss starts with K? Haha. I'm not giving away my ideas, muahahaha.  
Dancer- E is not for elephant or elevator, but thanks for the ideas!  
Yabberli- I'm so glad you like it! Now get back to work, you!  
Dizzy- Oh, yes, they are...  
Literati- Well, thank you!  
Ruli- Hah, and where would they get the money for that? And they're adorable. I know, I know.  
Claire- Aww thanks love! It was based off of you, you know? shakes head no But yeah, Dope is a depressant. haha. That line cracks me up.

Please continue to pray for my friend Alan and his family. The doctors have basically told the family there's no hope. He had a lot of obstacles yesterday (including a coma), and the doctors were certain he wouldn't make it through the night. It's 3:15 the next day now, and as far as I know, he's still here. We're all just praying hard that it will continue to be the case. If I dissapear for a bit, you know why.

* * *

"Hey?" Pam picked up the phone, a slight smile on her face. It was 10:54 in the morning, and she'd been up since 8 A.M., unsure of when Jim would call to tell her he was on his way. He made it a point every weekend to NOT tell her, just so he could catch her by surprise. Usually, she was right in the middle of doing something, after she'd told herself she wouldn't do it for hours because she was waiting on him. As soon as she'd started folding her laundry this morning, he'd called of course. It kind of made her angry—she'd just separated her clothes into two piles: Jeans and underwear, and everything else. Jeans and underwear had just gone in the wash, and now Pam wasn't quite sure what to do.

"Hi," Jim said, and she could hear the music blasting loudly in the background. Well, it wasn't too loud. Jim didn't really have a taste for any of the head-banging screamo or rap or hip-hop that other misinformed humans did. His bands of choice were more like Wilco or Keane, and she couldn't help but wonder if that stuff could ever truly get loud.

"Whatcha doin…?" she trailed off, dropping the basket of clothes and rushing to her room to change. God, what would she wear?

"Well, I was planning on gathering supplies for our date today, but then I thought you might want to help me." He said. She grinned. _I wonder what the supplies could be.  
_She clicked her tongue against her teeth into the phone, making the sounds of a ticking clock in his ear. "I don't know, what could these supplies be?"

"You think I'd tell you that? You're delusional."

She laughed into the phone, searching through her drawers. "What am I wearing today, Halpert?"

"Underwear is always good."

"Over that." She rolled her eyes. Who was this 12 year old, and would she be going to jail for this?

"I'll give you four clues," he said, and she pressed the phone to her ear again, as if she'd hear and understand better with it there. "You'll want a swimsuit, a toothbrush, rubber soled shoes, and a ski mask."

"I hate you!" she sing-songed into the phone, pulling out her swimsuit.

He grinned. "Which swimsuit are you going to pack?"

"The red one with brown flowers," she replied, nonchalantly.

He burst into laughter, his words coming through the hiccups, "God, Pam, I'm kidding… You actually got a swimsuit out!"

"I did not," she replied indignantly, her face going red as she tossed the swimsuit under the bed. A comfortable silence passed between them, as Pam waited for him to tell her what she really needed to wear. Finally, she got frustrated by the absence of his voice. "Jim, just tell me what I need to wear."

"I would wear your underwear and on top of that, I would wear shorts you can move around in, but not make noise in." Her nose crinkled at this suggestion. "Probably a tee-shirt, once again, noise free." She was getting suspicious now. "Some bug spray, your hair back, and some tennis shoes…"

"And these tennis shoes, you want them to make a lot of noise?" She asked, rolling her eyes as she pulled her pajama bottoms down, hopping on one foot.

"Absolutely not," he said, right as she stepped on the bottom of her pajama pants, her arms flailing as her body hit the wood floors with a thud.

"Oh, dumb shit," she muttered into the phone, the silence overwhelming them before Jim burst out laughing.

"What did you do? Trip over something?"

She grinned. "No…." She trailed off, glancing at the swimsuit that had fallen under the bed and rolling her eyes. _Yeah, he's going to believe that._

"So, you got it? Noise free. Plus I want you to bring your ski mask." He said, and she sat up, hitting her head on the side of the bed.

"Are you going to kill me?" She asked, mock-serious.

"First you accuse me of trying to get you pregnant, then you suggest I might kill you? What kind of a man do you think I am, Beesly?"

"Well, are you!?" she shrieked into the phone, rubbing the back of her head as she pulled her pajama bottoms off. _Why is this easier to do sitting down?_

"You know what they say," he replied.

"No, what do they say, Halpert?" She asked, rolling her eyes.

"F is for funeral." And with that, the line went dead.

* * *

They wandered through the kids toy aisle at Target, each of them picking up a different box and looking at the ingredients. "This one has a telescope, x-ray goggles, binoculars, a camouflage bandana, an ink pen and a notepad," Pam said, handing it to Jim. 

He grinned, taking it from her. "Here, look at this one." She took it in her hands and studied it, reading. _1 set x-ray vision goggles, 1 camouflage bandana, 1 set handcuffs, 1 "how to be a spy" book, 1 UV light with belt clip. _She bit her lip. How was she supposed to make an informed decision on the best type of spy gear if she didn't know what the were doing?

"Jim," she whispered, "What are we doing? I can't do this if I don't know." He grinned, taking the box out of her hands and putting it back on the shelf.

"We're getting this one," he announced, taking her hand and wheeling her over to the books section. His Target had always had a really big book section, unlike any he'd been in before. He thumbed through the books, finally picking one out and handing it to Pam.

"Spying for Dummies," She read aloud, and he turned and stared at her with the evil eye, giving her the 'what the hell are you doing?! You're gonna blow our cover' look. She quickly quieted down and followed him around the store. They'd just picked up two black ski masks, when she piped up again.

"Jim, if E stands for Equity Bank, we're breaking this thing off right now!" she whispered.

He grinned as they quickly hurried toward the front of the store. He picked up a birthday card off the corner of the card aisle and she stared at him in confusion. He ran into Line 7, putting down 2 ski masks, _Spying for Dummies, _A set of walkie-talkies, and the first spy set. The cashier raised her eyebrows at them as she scanned the items.

"It's uh, it's for my nephew. He's five, really into spy stuff," he said, handing her the birthday card.

She looked at the card, a pink and blue flowery card with cursive scrawl at the top, wishing the receiver a happy 50th birthday. "And it's my Mom's birthday, too." Jim justified again, looking down and over at Pam's shoes. The cashier eyed them quietly, took Jim's money, and put their things in the bag.

Pam grabbed the bags and headed out to the car, climbing in the first seat. Jim climbed in along with her as she slowly started to take the things out of the bag, staring at them as he drove through the streets. "Jim, what do we need all of this for? Seriously, are you kidnapping me?" Jim glanced over at her, raised his eyebrows, and she heard the doors lock her inside the car.

She looked over at him, her eyes wide. "Oh my god…" She muttered under her breath.

He laughed. "Okay, you want to know what we're doing?

"YES!" She replied, looking at him with that look she gave him when he was being stupid.

"Well, you remember what happened at the end of our date last week?" He asked, grinning.

"How could I forget? Dwight coming over and knocking on your window dressed up in his deputy costume?"

"Deputy costume?" Jim stifled a laugh before his face turned serious. "I'll have you know, it's a Volunteer Sheriff Deputy UNIFORM, and it is very difficult to obtain. The fabric itself is royalty fabric from India." She giggled.

_There was a slight tapping on Jim's window, and Pam jumped in her seat. Jim looked over at her, giving her a lopsided grin, before rolling the window down._

_"Damn it, Jim," Dwight said, looking inside the car, his face contorted in anger._

_"Uh, hi Dwight." Jim responded, looking over at her and raising his eyebrows. "What brings you to work so late at night on a Saturday?"_

_"I got a call…" he started, his head darting from side to side, making sure nobody would betray their conversation. "from a concerned citizen," Dwight emphasized the word concerned, and Pam's eyebrows shot up. "complaining that you were watching an _inappropriate _film," he finished, bringing his eyes back to them, his head still bobbing in place._

_"Well, the Teletubbies are a little adventurous," Jim replied, smirking. Pam brought her hand to her face, trying to cover her laughter. _

_"Jim, cut it out!" Dwight raised his voice, pointing his finger in Jim's face. "Now you tell me what you were watching and where you bought it!"_

_Jim moved his hand up, swatting Dwight's finger away. "Where we bought it?" Jim asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "We bought it from Target, I believe. It was $4.99."_

_"Jim, they do not sell these things at Target," Dwight replied. "Especially not for $4.99. Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. You can choose."_

_"Uhm, what's the hard way?" Jim asked._

_"The hard way is this._ _I go down to the police station on my lunch break. I tell a police officer, I know several, what I suspect you may have in your car. He requests a hearing from a judge and obtains a search warrant, once he has said warrant, he will drive over here, and make you vacate the premises, and you will have to obey him," Dwight replied, emphasizing the last sentence._

_"Sounds tough. Listen, Dwight, I don't think it's illegal to own Teletubbies." Jim replied, looking over at Pam and sticking his tongue out lightly. He then leaned in close to Dwight and whispered, "I heard Michael keeps a copy under his bed."_

_"Oh, that's not good…" Dwight replied, bringing his finger to his lips. "Teletubbies has been proven to cause interspecies communication, increased gambling, abdominal pain, and infertility."_

_"Oh yeah," Pam said, looking down in her lap, and Jim looked over at her, his forehead wrinkling as she brought her hand up to wipe at her eyes. Dwight looked on, his look of concern deepening._

_"What is it, Pamela?" he asked._

_"I just… My uncle … He used to watch Teletubbies all the time… And he got addicted to it," she looked up, her eyes glassy from tears. "I mean, really, really addicted to it," she wiped her face with her hands as Jim stared at her in amazement. "And one day he gambled away all of his belongings... We haven't seen him since," she finished, looking away._

_Dwight leaned across Jim, his face fearful. He reached out and touched Pam's knee, and she jolted up, shocked. "Pam, what are you doing over here with this loser at this hour?" He asked, glancing at Jim. "Only a woman of ill repute would be alone with a man she's not married to watching Teletubbies__" he looked at Jim with disgust. "Pam, I did not expect this out of you. Question: Did Jim drug you and make you come here against your will?"_

_She looked flustered, shaking her head slightly, before a new batch of fake tears started. "Uncle Mufasa wasn't married when he watched Teletubbies either!"_

_Dwight stopped, his face registering disbelief. "Doesn't Ryan have a cousin named Mufasa?"_

_"Yeah," she said, wiping her eyes dry. "My family saved him from a pack of rabid wolves and adopted him."_

_Jim stared at her in disbelief, his draw dropping. "That explains the weird hair and facial expressions," Dwight said, pondering this new information. "Question: Does Ryan still speak wolf?"_

_Jim and Pam exchanged a look, before Jim exclaimed, "Not the point, Dwight! We're trying to save Michael here! Focus, Schrute!"_

_Dwight nodded. "Right, we'll table that for the time being… What should I do?"_

_"Dwight!" Pam said, putting her sad face on again. "You must save Michael before it's too late! Hurry! I cannot lose another person I care about to this horrible disease. Go!" She said, putting her hand over her heart._

_Dwight reached his hand out and put it on top of her shoulder, looking at her somber face with all seriousness. "Don't cry, Pam. I'll save him." He then turned and raced towards his car, echoes of "MICHAEL!" vibrating in the streets._

They erupted into fits of laughter at the memory. "Okay, what does Dwight being an idiot have to do with our E date?" Pam asked, smiling. "Or camouflage or non squeaky pants or telescopes…"

"Well, I've decided it's only fair that we retaliate," Jim responded, and Pam's face registered shock. He parked the car on a deserted road Pam hadn't seen before, and if she hadn't trusted Jim completely, she might have thought he truly wanted to kill her. "Now, we are going to E is for Eavesdrop on Dwight. We're going to crouch in bushes, use our walkie-talkies and special powers to communicate. Eventually, when we deem the coast is clear, we will E is for Enter the beet house, and we will steal his prized possession: The Efficient Elf Dundie from 2004."

Pam was giggling now, enamored in his idea. "And what if we get caught?"

"Pam," Jim said, in mock-seriousness. "We won't get caught. We have too many tools to get caught." He reached into his pocket and pulled out more tools, and she laughed. "My grandfather's sonic hearing aid. It will catch any sound." She rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Um, you can wear that…" She said, grabbing the camouflage bandana and tying it around her head. "It has a hair on it." He laughed and nodded, as she slipped the ski mask on her face.

He slipped his ski mask on as she gathered her supplies. "Wait," he said, and she looked at him funny. He pulled the ski mask off her face. "It might be too hot for these…" She laughed as he pulled his off. "We can disguise with paint." He opened up one green and one brown container of finger paint and painted a war stripe on her cheeks and she grinned. He handed her the paint container and she did the same thing to him and they grinned.

She clipped a walkie-talkie to her belt, grabbed the _Spying for Dummies _book, put the X-ray goggles on, and stepped out of the car. She saw Jim grab the telescope and clip the other walkie-talkie to his belt and she smiled, reaching back into the car and pulling out her camera. "Okay, Halpert, put on your tough face," she said, snapping a picture of the two of them flexing their muscles, backs to each other, giving the camera the face they would give when they met impending danger.

"Here's a copy of our ransom note," Jim said, handing her a letter. She grinned and opened it, reading it out loud. She grinned.

"Classic," she said, smiling. He nodded at her and they took off into the woods, staying low to the ground as they wandered toward Dwight's farm. As they reached the house, they both dropped to their stomachs, inching forward military man style, grinning at each other the whole way. Pam darted to the left side of the house, and Jim to the right, both of them keeping their backs to the walls, stopping right under the window. They slowly inched up and peeked through the window, seeing each other. Pam's radio crackled.

"Stinging Zebra, copy and over," Jim's voice came through the walkie-talkie.

"This is Stinging Zebra, copy." She replied.

"You're supposed to assign me a nickname, over," he said, and she felt embarrassed immediately.

"Sorry, you're um.. ZigZag Platypus." She giggled.

"Over?" His voice came through.

"Over, Over," she replied. "Shh! I hear something." She sank down to her place on the ground, as the familiar voice drifted out through the open window.

"Monkey, I told you… The beets have to cultivate in the garden for half an hour!" Dwight sounded exasperated, and Pam wondered what they were talking about. "It's just going to be a half-hour later…" His voice paused. "A shower will make it an hour later." Pam giggled softly. "I know you hate the smell of Beets, so I will shower just for you. Yes, Monkey... Yes… I know, nothing fancy or foreign…. Uh huh. Angela! If you don't let me get off the phone, I won't make it," he said, stomping out of the room. Pam's eyes darted up and met Jim's from across the window, both of them mouthing out a surprised, _Angela?_

Pam inched toward the back of the beet house, watching as Dwight stomped into the fields. She pressed the button on her walkie-talkier, "May day May day!" she hissed.

"What does that mean, Stinging Zebra? Over."

"It means get your ass inside!" She hissed again, running inside the house and over to where Dwight's Dundie stood atop the mantle. She grabbed it, the light illuminating her hand from the above as she realized that Dwight had set special lights over each Dundie. Jim reached into his pocket, placing the ransom note in its place as footsteps squeaked outside the house. Ringing started from Pam's back pocket and she gasped, pulling her phone out.

"RUN!" Jim whispered loudly, as the back door opened. Jim and Pam ran out the front door, sprinting toward the car, jumping over smashed beets and cats and bushes, reaching it only a few seconds later. They stood over the car, panting, as Pam opened her phone, seeing it had been her mother, Ellen who had called her. "Get in the car, he'll come after us!" Jim said quickly, opening the door. She climbed in, throwing all of her stuff in the backseat as she dialed her mom's number.

"Hello?" her mother picked up on the third ring, and Pam smiled, glad to talk with her.

"Hi mom," she said, and she knew she was out of breath.

"Pam! Where are you?"

"I'm in the car with Jim. We've just got back from.. uh, shopping," she said, glancing at the Target bags. "And doing some errands." She looked over at Jim, who mouthed back to her _E is for errands. _She rolled her eyes.

"Well, Surprise! I'm in town. Your father had to go to some convention in Minneapolis, so I thought I'd come surprise you. I just got here, but Pam, I'm starving! Can I treat you to dinner? You can bring the friend of yours to dinner."

"Oh thanks Mom, but he probably wouldn't…" she trailed off when Jim gave her a look that told her the date wasn't over yet. "Um, we'll meet you at El Chico's in an hour."

"No, meet me now. I'm hungry!" her mom said, hanging up the phone. Pam turned to Jim. "We're meeting my mother at El Chico's." Jim grinned. _We've got lotsa 'splanin' ta do._

* * *

"So," Ellen stated, cutting her chicken. "How long have you been seeing each other?" 

"Um, we're not really, Mom…" Pam trailed off, looking to Jim for help.

He laughed, "Yeah, we're not dating… It's a funny story, really." Ellen looked up at him, and he looked over at Pam, and she laughed.

"Mine to tell, apparently…" She looked from her mother to Jim, and back and forth. "Well, when everything blew over with Roy, I went over to Jim's to see him and he was trying to convince me that not all men are scum.."

"Which was harder than it seems," Jim added, and Pam rolled her eyes, continuing.

"Well, somehow I managed to agree to going on 'dates' with him for 26 Saturdays. One for each letter of the alphabet." She laughed and Ellen stared at them in amazement. "Today was E."

"Interesting," her mother said, taking a sip of water. "And what did E stand for?"

"Errands," Pam replied quickly, but one look at the camouflage outfit she was wearing told her that Mommy wasn't going to buy it. "Elk hunting. You need camo for it."

Ellen watched Jim for a moment, before she heard Pam ask, "Mom, why did you drive up here?"

She sighed. "Well, you just broke things off with Roy so quickly, and we were worried about you, honey. You never really told us why…" Pam looked over at Jim, a hurt expression in her eyes. He couldn't tell why she hadn't told them yet, but he knew whatever the reason was, it was because it pained her deeply.

He leaned in, taking in the smell of her hair and whispered softly in her ear, "You should tell her, she's your mom. She'll understand." Pam looked at him for a moment, and Jim scooted his chair back softly. "Hey, I'll leave and let you two talk," he said, rising a bit out of his chair.

Her hand flew on top of his so quickly he wasn't sure if he'd even gotten the words out before she'd responded. "No, stay." Her voice was almost pleading, and he looked at her and knew she was upset, her eyes were pleading with him. He nodded, softly whispering an okay, as he sat down.

Ellen watched them, taking in his happily surprised expression at her daughter's insistence. _Hmm… _She looked up to meet Pam's eyes and started to reach across the table to take her hand, but saw that Pam's hadn't moved from on top of Jim's. He gave her a slight squeeze and she smiled, albeit weakly, at him. "Well, Mom… It's pretty simple, really."

She saw Jim's thumb tracing over her daughter's palm, and it took her a second to focus back on Pam as she continued talking. "I mean, there were probably a lot of reasons I shouldn't have been with him… You know? But, I guess the whole brunt of the issue was that he just didn't…" She looked down, trying to find the words. "Love? No… Didn't appreciate me, I guess."

She looked up at Jim, and he nodded, "Go on, tell her everything." Ellen was surprised that this young man knew more than she did about her daughter's broken engagement. It hurt her feelings slightly, but she wouldn't admit that.

"Well," Pam's voice was shaking lightly now, and Ellen was sure she was the only one who could tell. She looked up, surprised to see that Jim's expression had changed, and she knew he'd caught on too. "I came home early from work one day with a pizza, and I went up to surprise him with it… You know how he gets about his dinner."

Ellen laughed, knowing full well that Roy liked dinner on the table as soon as he came home from work or the bar. It had been that way with his father, and it would probably be passed down from generation to generation of future Andersons. "Anyway," Pam continued, "Apparently, when I came in the room, I frightened him a bit and he dropped his beer, and the glass broke into a thousand little pieces. He apologized and everything, but I told him to go get our pizza ready because I'd left it downstairs."

Ellen could see Pam shaking lightly now, and she knew Jim had to, as his expression was a little more pained and he held her hand more tightly. "Well, I went to go pick it up, and some of the glass had rolled under the bed, I guess. And I noticed there were some clothes under there, so I pulled them out and there was this piece of …" She stumbled over the words, and Ellen could tell her daughter wasn't comfortable talking about this. She looked up at Jim with somewhat fearful eyes, and he turned to Ellen.

"Someone else's lingerie," he finished for Pam, and she took a deep breath, exhaling quickly.

"Thanks," she whispered quietly, and although it was hardly audible, Ellen had become quite used to reading her daughter's lips. She reached across the table, as Jim let go of Pam's hand, and she took it, holding it in hers.

"Baby, I'm sorry," she said softly, unsure of what else to say at the moment.

Pam shook her head slightly, regaining a bit of composure… "No, mom, it's okay… I mean, there were other things too… I guess that was just kind of it… You know? The uh, the bottom line." She put her hand to her face and wiped her tears away. "Excuse me, I'm uh, gonna go to the restroom," she said, getting out of her seat and racing to the bathroom.

Ellen chewed on a bite of chicken as Jim sat, sipping his water through a straw, staring at Pam's plate. She'd hardly eaten anything once she'd started talking, and he knew she wouldn't unless he could get her laughing again. He heard sounds outside his ear a moment later, but he couldn't register them. When he looked up, Ellen was looking at him expectantly, and it occurred to him she'd just asked him a question.

"Oh, I'm sorry, what was the question?" He asked, and she smiled.

"I said, do you have feelings for my daughter?" Ellen asked.

Jim's eyes went wide and his head shook slightly. "Oh! No, um, we're just friends. You know. I mean, she just got out of that relationship… Yeah, we're just friends."

Ellen gave him a knowing smile as Pam came back to the table, sitting down. Jim pointed at the baby at the next booth over, blowing kisses at Pam. Pam smiled and blew kisses back, laughter invading her lungs. As the sound of her giggles increased, he cocked his head to the side lightly, smiling at her. Her cheeks were a bit rosy, her mouth was open from laughing, and her eyes were shining.

_Yeah, maybe I do…_

_

* * *

_Well? What did you think? Review, Review, Review! 


	7. F is for Fetus

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my friend Alan, who passed away this morning at 11:30. Thank you for all of your prayers over this past week--I can't tell you how much I appreciate them, and the IMs and PMs of sympathy and encouragement. Seriously, you guys are amazing. In EVERY way. So, excuse me if I dissapear for a little these next few days. There's a possibility of that, and there's a possibility that all I will do is write, as writing is my catharsis. So, bear with me.

Thanks to Elly for beta'ing.

Reviews:

Kerber- Thanks so much! And I love the parent fics too, but I try and stay away from writing them because it's impossible to be IC with them. And yet, here I am, introducing a brutha.  
Eagle- I'm glad you love target! hehe  
SmallTuna- LOL yeah, Jim's a funny guy. well, if you have any fic ideas, let me know, I have a list to choose from, haha. And nope, F is not for France or French Toast, but good try. And on the mom, go read Oracle Mom by time4moxie.  
KT- Hmm, I don't know what you mean, honestly. And the references were surprisingly easy this last chapter!  
NL- Thanks, so much.  
Lauren- LOL fantastic!! And sometimes, things like Dwight are just better left to the imagination.  
Alice-  
Meg- First off, thanks for the PM. Second off, teletubbies are priceless  
Dean- He's beginning to realizing his feelings are more than best friend, but he doesnt know the extent yet. Make sense?  
Yabberli- Oh thanks!!! Wow! You have read a lot of my stuff!!! Did you read my joint story with Katy? It's One Fine Day, and it's by AG.and.Katy. Just to give you more procrastination :)  
Katy- Thanks. 'Preciate it. And Dwight was actually pretty much written by Elly. At least inspired.  
Alison- I am not human. But I am the superior being.  
Elly- Thank you... I thought about it, but I'm so darn scared I'll fail at it. We'll see.  
Claire- haha! Funny you. You're adorable. And yes, let's just say that's exactly what happened. And then he did tests on everything.  
Literati- Oh, do we need to send you somewhere?

* * *

Pam stood in the middle of the crowd, up on her tippy toes, looking for him. Where had he gone? Somewhere in the stampede of families they'd gotten separated. Her lip started to quiver slightly as she searched for him. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't have gotten lost. It was like her first date all over again, except this time, he hadn't left her, he'd just gotten lost. Not now, not when they were this far from home. Her voice was feeble as she called out for him, "JIM!" 

She felt a hand in hers and she looked down to see his there. She smiled and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, relieved that she'd finally found him. Or rather, that he'd found hers. He held onto her tight as he wiped away one of her tears. "Hey, Kindergartner, it's okay. I'm here." She blushed, looking down at her feet. "You know better than to cross the street without holding my hand."

She laughed lightly and started walking, but she didn't let go of his hand. She didn't dare.

_She stood in the middle of Dillards, her small hand up in the air, grasping at it where her father's hand used to be. Everyone seemed so big and scary to her, lost inside of the store. She was only a four feet tall, and her light-up sneakers did nothing to add height to her. Her head whipped around fast as she searched for her father, every inch of her close to erupting into tears._

_Her braids hit against her shoulders as she looked for him, her lip quivering. "Daddy?" she whispered, scared of everyone around her. She had no idea what should she do. If she moved, maybe she could find him. But if he came looking for her, he'd look right where she was now, where he'd let go of her hand. All of the people were coming at her, and it was all she could do to not start crying in the middle of the store._

_She walked over to one of the clothes racks and sat on the metal frame, staring out into the wide space, tears on her cheeks. It must have been an hour or five before she finally heard her name on the intercom. "Pamela Beesly, please report to the Customer Service desk to meet your father. Pamela Beesly, please report to the Customer Service desk to meet your father." Her little feet shook as she stood up. She saw a woman pushing a stroller next to her, and she peered inside, seeing a little baby wrapped in blue staring back at her. _

_She wiped her eyes and turned to the woman, thinking that if anyone could help her, it would be a mother. "Ma'am?" She said, sobs catching in her throat. "I can't find my daddy. They just called my name." She burst into a fit of sobs and the woman reached down and picked her up, holding her tight. _

_"I'll help you," she said, and pushed the stroller toward the Customer Service kiosk. When they got to where Pam could see the desk, the woman let her down._

_"DADDY!" Pam yelled, and her father turned, a look of fear on his face until he saw her. As soon as he saw her, his face softened visibly, and she ran toward him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight and patting her head as he smiled into her neck. He picked her up to finish their shopping, and for the rest of the day, he didn't let her off his hip._

She swallowed, thinking of the memory of her father. She remembered how frightened she'd been as a little girl, and it almost made her cry knowing that even as a grown adult, she still reacted that way. She felt Jim squeeze her hand lightly, and she looked up at him, all of a sudden realizing what she loved most about him. He was the only person in the world who _always_ looked happy to see her. No matter what, whenever he saw her, he smiled. He was always happy to see her, and she was always safe with him.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked her, and she smiled, looking down and shuffling her feet.

"The last time I was lost," she replied. He kept watching her, and she looked up at him, smiling. "It was in Dillards when I was seven. My dad let go of my hand, and I had to find a mom to help me find him. I was scared shitless."

He smiled down at her. "Like you were just a minute ago."

"I.." She stammered for a minute. "Yeah, for different reasons." He looked down at her, begging her to continue with his eyes. "It's just that, when you're seven you're scared because Daddy wandered away, and you don't know where he is… This time… I don't know, I guess it crossed my mind that maybe you wanted to wander away."

He looked over at her, his mouth half open as he walked with her, silently. They reached a break in the crowd and he stopped, turning her to look at him. She looked up at him, unsure of what to say. He looked back down at her, the same expression on his face, before he finally opened his mouth. "I will never want to wander away from you."

She studied his face for a moment and then nodded, hugging him again. He held her back until she pulled away, and she reached her hand down and slipped it back comfortably into his. They started walking again, when he started, "I'm really glad you agreed to come on our date today," he said

"Why wouldn't I?" she asked, smiling.

"Well, I wasn't sure how comfortable you'd be with it… Plus, you only promised me Saturdays... Here I am, taking away your whole weekend. You could have gone home and hung out with your family or something…"

"Jim," she said, her voice serious. "It's nice to know what a Halpert family Fourth of July is, though I'm sure your brother is seriously misinformed about me."

Jim laughed, remembering the way his family had reacted when he'd brought her home.

_She sat in the car, staring out the window and biting on her fingernails, her characteristic symbol for nervousness. He glanced between her and the road, unsure of which he should focus more attention on. On one hand, he'd get them killed I he didn't watch the road. On the other hand, he wanted to make sure she was okay. His family didn't bite—he wanted her to know that. "Nervous?" _

_She chuckled lightly. "Yeah, and I don't know why. If they don't like me, it's no big deal…"_

_He smiled, making a right hand turn. "Sure it is." She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "You want people to like you—who doesn't? Besides, I like to think I'm your best friend," he looked over at her and she nodded lightly, assuring him that he was indeed. "It's important to you that your best friend's family likes you."_

_She nodded. Why it was so important to her, she didn't know. "I just don't want them to think you're making bad choices or something, you know?"_

_"A bad choice? On you?" He asked incredulously._

_"Well, yes... No... I mean, I want them to think I'm worth your time," she replied._

_"You are," he said, cutting her off slightly. "And they will." She looked over at him, and he met her gaze briefly before turning his eyes back to the road as he glided into the driveway of his family's cabin. She turned to him._

_"You're sure this is alright? I mean, this is your family's vacation… I don't want to intrude."_

_"Nonsense, Beesly," he said, waving away her insecurities for a moment, before turning to watch her. "I would never forgive myself if I broke one of our dates. Besides, as my best friend, you're practically family. Plus, my younger sister's really anxious to meet you."_

_"She is?" Pam smiled._

_"Yes!" Jim replied grinning. "Ever since she was a little girl, Becca's always dreamed of being a receptionist."_

_"Shut up!" Pam laughed, swatting him. "C'mon, let's get this over with." He laughed, opening her car door for her, and she smiled. "Always a gentleman."_

_He grinned and led her up to the cabin's door, opening it and yelling inside, "WILMA!" She giggled and set her purse down on the coffee table as family members came bustling down the stairs._

_"Jimbo!" she heard a man's voice call out, and he turned toward the kitchen as an older, less-cute (in Pam's eyes) version of Jim came bustling in. They shook hands or a minute, pulling each other into a hug, and then Jim pulled away._

_"Alan, this is Pam," he said, and Pam smiled, putting her hand out. Alan disregarded it, pulling her into a hug._

_"Well, hello Pam. It's nice to meet you," he said and she nodded. She watched as Alan looked over at Jim, raising his eyebrows, before he turned back to her. "So, are you the mother of the next Halpert?"_

_She blushed for a moment and looked up at Jim, biting her lip. He gave her a lopsided grin and a shrug, and she smiled, "Uhm, we were going to wait until tomorrow, but…"He smiled at her, his eyes registering his shock but his face unwilling to blow her cover. "Honey? You think we should just tell him?"_

_He nodded, "I, uh, think you already did, sweet pea." She smiled up at him, locking eyes with him as he smiled back at her, neither of them fully aware of their surroundings. Eventually, Alan cleared his throat._

_"Uh, guys…" he said, nudging Pam lightly. "Parenting… it's a lot of work."_

_Jim put his arm around Pam, looking down at her. "We know—"_

_"But it's worth it," Pam finished for him, smiling up at him. They stared at each other for what felt like a moment too long, before she turned back to Alan. "Hey, man, please don't say anything, we're not exactly ready… We want to tell them on our own time."_

_He nodded, "You got it."_

She was walking silently down the streets of the fair, and he laughed suddenly, causing her to look up. "What's so funny?" She smiled.

"How's the baby doing?" He laughed, and she giggled, putting her free hand over her stomach. "Kicking like a mad man!"

"It's a girl," Jim reminded her, and she snorted.

"It was a girl once and a boy once, I'm not sure how Alan never caught on we were teasing him."

"I'm glad he didn't," Jim replied. "How much fun has it been trying to get him to spill the beans all weekend? You've been seriously brilliant!"

"Oh please, demanding that I have to sit out at beach volleyball because my stomach is 'acting up' is nothing," she replied, laughing. "Not nearly as good as you offering to make an entire dinner of baby back ribs, steamed baby carrots, baby shrimp, baby lima beans and Baby Ruth brownies."

Jim put his finger to his lips, his face registering deep thought. "Yeah, that one was pretty good." They both laughed for a moment. "Oh, and we can't forget your insistence that you couldn't drink alcohol." Pam grinned, swinging her hands in sync with Jim's.

"We make a pretty good team," she said, smiling. He looked back at her, _yeah, we do. _"So, what's the next stage of our prank against Alan?" She asked, quickly recovering.

"Hmm, that's a good question," Jim said, pondering. "Okay, this will take some sacrifice on your part."

Pam looked up at him, grinning. "What do I get in return?"

"The satisfaction of knowing that you are more amazing than any girl I've ever dated?" He questioned, and she grinned.

"Okay, what's the plan?"

"Okay step one: Tomorrow morning, I want you to wake up early and run to the bathroom right next to Alan's bedroom. Make a lot of gagging noises…"

"Morning sickness, I like it," she smiled. "I can deal with some 5 AM. No problem." He laughed.

"I'll meet you in there a moment later… Alan's a light sleeper. We can 'whisper'," he put air quotes around whisper, "about how horrible you have your morning sickness. How it lasts all day long." She grinned, giggling.

"Ooh!" she jumped in the air a bit, "What if I ask to see all of your old baby pictures?"

"YES!" Jim said, enthused. "Yes, Beesly, that's phenomenal, Yes. Yes. You must wink at Alan when you do, too."

She smiled, pleased with Jim's excitement over as simple of a plan as pretending to have a bun in the oven. "Do you think we can let Anna in on this?" Pam asked, thinking of Jim's younger sister, who she'd been sharing a room with all weekend.

"Why?" Jim asked, wondering what she was up to.

"I'm wondering if maybe we can get her to mention something about birth control…" Jim laughed.

"We'll think of something." She smiled and rested her head against his shoulder lightly.

"Maybe we should start calling each other baby now? Instead of honey," she said. He nodded. "You should probably start putting your hand on my stomach at random times, too."

His eyes went wide, but he kept staring ahead. "Hold that thought," he said, pulling her over to one of those games where you could win prizes if you performed well enough. She smiled, watching him as he handed the attendant a dollar bill in exchange for five ping pong balls that he needed to use to knock over 9 pins.

The first game went miserably, and it wasn't until the sixth or so game that Jim even started to hit the pins singly, let alone more than one at a time. After the nineteenth game, Jim had finally managed to hit them all down, winning one of the large stuffed animals that hung at the top.

"Which one do you want?" he asked, turning to Pam. She smiled, looking up at them and pointed to a big, purple teddy bear.

"That one, please," she said as the attendant got it down for her. "Thank you," she whispered to Jim, and he just smiled down at her. She took the bear from the attendant and held it close to her as they started walking again.

"Can we ride the Ferris wheel?" she whispered softly, as if embarrassed to even ask. He smiled and nodded, pulling her toward the attraction.

"What are you going to name your bear?" He asked her, and she smiled. "Frodo?" She giggled. "Flomar? MoseyWosey? Bear bo bear?" She rolled her eyes at him, leaning towards him and laughing.

She looked up at him, seriously, and said, "I'm going to name him Tinky Winky, after our favorite actor from the Teletubbies." He burst out laughing, holding her hand and bending over as she giggled, watching him. He was gasping for air.

"How.." He started, being cut off after each word with huge breaths. "Do.. you.. know that?"

She grinned, shrugging. He stopped her, his eyes full of wonder and excitement, the face he always made when he had a brilliant idea. "Oh my god, Pam."

"What?" she asked, her face frozen between serious and grinning.

"We need to put Tinky Winky on Dwight's desk on Monday!" They erupted into laughter again, and Pam leaned against him, trying to catch her breath.

"But… I kind of want it," she said, tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

"I'll win you another one, but please, Pam! We have to do this," he said, and she smiled, watching the excitement in his eyes. She couldn't say no to that. She started giggling again, and he joined in. "It works on so many levels! Not only will Dwight think he's going to start having some sort of interspecies communication and abdominal back pain, but he's convinced that Tinky Winky is gay and he's going to try and use gaydar on him!" She was heeling over in laughter now. She could barely hear the voice behind her, but she felt Jim freeze as he heard it.

"Jim?" He turned around slowly at the voice, squeezing her hand lightly. She turned around as well, taking in the sight of one of the most beautiful girls she'd ever seen. Her stomach did flip flops.

"Felicia, hi," Jim said. Pam studied the girl, thinking to herself how much she already hated her for being so abnormally beautiful. Her skin was rather tan, her blonde hair straight and long against it. She was wearing tight blue jeans that showed you just how fat she wasn't, and a white camisole that hugged her body, the flatness of her stomach evident. What she was lacking in the stomach and butt and thighs department, she certainly wasn't lacking in the breasts department, and Pam had no doubt in her mind that this Felicia girl was _that_ girl in high school. The beautiful, cheerleader type that everyone abhorred but at the same time wanted to be.

She cocked her head to the side and smiled at Jim, her smile showing just how perfect her teeth were, and it almost made Pam shudder. She threw her arms around Jim's neck, kissed his cheek, and giggled, and Pam could feel the anger rising inside of her. _What kind of girl hugs and kisses another man when he's obviously holding hands with someone else? _Her mind raged as Jim put one hand on her back, patting her twice and then took a step back. "Oh my god, Jim, how are you? My gosh, how long has it been anyway?"

"Um, a few years," he replied, and then turned to look at Pam, gesturing to her with his hand. "This is P-"

He was cut off by her voice, "I have missed you so much, look at you. You look fantastic," she flashed him a smile, reaching out to touch his arm. "Have you been working out? Nobody can look this good without working out," she said.

"Um, no, I haven't. Listen, this is my-"

She cut him off again, "It's so great I ran into you here. I've been thinking about you and just remembering how much fun we had in high school. Oh gosh, do you remember that night in the Jacuzzi?" She asked, her eyes twinkling. Pam turned to look at him, anger rising inside of her to the point where she almost couldn't contain it. She looked over at Malibu Barbie, catching a smug look that she was sending Pam's way. _Ugh. _He was looking at Felicia, a look of shock on his face, his mouth half open.

Pam stepped forward, her hand still lodged inside of Jim's as she got in Felicia's path a bit. "Hi, I'm Pam," she said, putting her free hand out to shake Felicia's, even though it was the wrong hand. Felicia looked at it for a moment, smirked, and then continued to talk to Jim.

"Well, my dream came true, just like you thought it would, Jimmy," she smiled, and Pam watched as Jim bit his lip. Her feet were tapping in rage. "I'm a professional hairstylist," she finished.

"I always knew you could do it," Jim muttered, and Felicia took a step back _Finally._ She looked him up and down, and then circled behind him, looking him up and down there _Oh my God! What is her problem? _She ran her fingers through Jim's hair, and he ducked slightly at first, but then straightened up as she continued to run her fingers through the tufts of hair.

"Listen, Jimmy," she smiled sweetly, running her hand out of his hair and down his arm, reaching into her back pocket and pulling her business card out. "Why don't you come by the salon, I can give you a great haircut." She winked at him, and he recoiled, but she continued, pulling a pen out of her back pocket. "I'm going to use your back," she said, going behind him and moving up close against him, writing something on her business card as Pam eyed her over her shoulder. "Wow, you look different…" Felicia said, and Pam felt the heat rise inside of her at the thought. She saw Felicia grab Jim's butt before she reappeared in front of them, handing Jim the card.

"That's my cell phone number," she said, pointing to the number that had a small heart drawn right next to it. "It's always on… Call me if you want to stop by… I can do your haircut anytime you want." She winked at Jim, and he took the card from her, pocketing it.

"Okay, well, it was, uh, good to see you," he said, as she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled uncomfortably as she turned to walk away, looking over her shoulder and waving lightly.

"Don't be a stranger, Jimmy," she smiled and winked at him, then turned her gaze to Pam and stared at her, pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows in a competitive way. "Bye, Tammy."

Pam could feel the anger boiling out of her as she let go of Jim's hand and quickly stomped the other way. "Pam!" She could hear him calling after her, but at this point, she didn't care. _God, Men were scum! _"Pam!" She kept on walking. "Pam!" She picked up her pace. "PAM!" She started running, and it wasn't long until she reached the edge of the fair. She lowered herself against the back of one of the stands, staring at her knees and playing with her hands. She heard footsteps approaching her quickly, and then she heard the voice, softer. "Pam."

She looked up to see him standing there, a concerned look on his face. "How did you…?" her face registered a look of disgust he'd never seen before. "date _that_!" She finished, looking away. He sighed and took a seat next to her, placing his hand on her knee.

"I have no idea," he said, sighing. "I think I was just a horny teenager."

She chuckled softly, looking up at him out of the corner of one of her eyes. "She just seemed very…"

"Friendly?"

She smiled. "I was thinking 'bitchy', but I guess friendly works."

He put his arm around her shoulder. "Hey," he said, and she looked up. "She ain't got nothin' on you… I mean, You're my baby mama!" He watched her for a long time before she finally cracked a smile.

"Yeah, but did you have as much fun making that baby with me as you did in the Jacuzzi with Jessica Simpson over there?"

"Have you seen her?" Jim asked, and Pam looked up at him.

"Yeah, I have, Jim. She's flipping gorgeous," Pam said pointedly.

"Not my type," he replied, stretching his leg out on the sidewalk.

She thought about that for a moment, and then leaned her head up and smiled. "What is your type?"

He smiled, staring straight ahead. "Pregnant." She looked over at him and smiled softly, as he stood up, offering his hand. She took it, and he pulled her into a tight hug. She took his hand, walking toward the Ferris wheel in silence, and he walked beside her, running his thumb over hers.  
"Can I see the business card?" She asked after a moment, and he reached into his pocket and handed it to her. She looked at it for a moment, "Felicia Mellanova." Jim nodded, grunting under his breath.

"Say goodbye to FelMel," Pam said, ripping the business card up and letting it scatter on the ground.

"Bye FelMel!" Jim obeyed, waving at the pieces as they scattered across the ground. Pam smiled up at him, and he draped his arm around her shoulders, leading her over to the Ferris wheel.

* * *

For those of you who did review, thanks. For those who didn't, step it up. Give me a reason to show you G. I'll hold it ransom for 20. So, Review. 


	8. G is for Genitals

A/N: This one is soooo flipping long! Gosh, it took forever to write.

Also, thanks to Elly and Katy for beta'ing and helping with ideas and such. They're the reason this isn't choppy, crappy writing.

And I knew there were more lurking readers. Silly to you who havent reviewed. Nothing like ransom threats...

Reviews:  
Literati- Thank ya, Thank ya. I called the psych ward.  
Yabberli- Not unless they see him again. :) And thanks!  
Alison- Yeah, you were sposed to be confused. And Felicia is a bia.  
KT- The writing was purposely vague at the beginning. One, because the POV I was using was Pam's, and she was confused, so why would she be narrating in clarity? Also, where they were wasn't as important as what was going on, so, that's what that's about. I don't like to mention things explicitly. I feel that if I have three betas reading something and they all understand it, it's clear enough from my side and at that point, it's the reader's job to interpret.  
Ash-Thanks! It's so great to have a new reviewer!!  
Elly- Thanks love! Yes, she is very Ryan. You're so cute and fun :) And that's about all I can think to reply to you. Can't wait to see your story. Question: What is the best invention?  
Henantz- Oh thank you! Pregnant Pam. Hah. And thanks :)  
Alice- She's a jealous one. :)  
Dancer- Thanks so much! And yeah, they are pranksers outside the office, too.  
Katy- That sounds awesome. I'm glad you loved it!  
Kerber- Thanks so much! That's the best compliment I could have gotten!  
Anon- I think he tried hard enough. I mean, he tried twice, then Pam stepped in (which she should have done). Eventually it was clear FelMel just wasn't gonna acknowledge Pam.  
CoffeeObsessed- Thanks so much! And yes, she is a Latin disease.  
BigTuna- Thank you so much. I really appreciate all of your kind words. And thanks for the review! Great thoughts!  
Dean- here's a LONG one. thats what she said.  
Eagle- Thanks so much!  
CountryCutie- Wow! Thanks! They are classic.  
Rabid- Thanks so much!!!  
Small Tuna- Thanks :) I like to think I have good taste. Sorry, I'm cruel. I'm wrong.  
Meg- Hah, I'm afraid it doesnt get better than that--at least not today! And I hope your christmas is great! Maybe you'll get the disney calendar :)!  
Pmartin- Thanks so much!! And I totally think it would continue outside the office.  
Browndoggy- I'm glad you love it! And a week passes from each chapter... And let me explain the cuddly a little. A) Holding hands- Because Pam got lost, so its an excuse B) the hugging- we've seen them hug when one was upset (ex. Merger, beach games, the job). ANd they have some feelings, they just arent pronounced... yet... wait... read on.  
Jgrll- Thanks!!  
Michelle- Oh, thank you! that means the world to me!  
Claire-Hah, yeah, FelMel makes an appearance here, too.  
Absolution- Wow, so many Fs... Can you find the Gs?  
Christine- A while from now... maybe...  
DizzyFiction- Hehe.  
Ruli- Thanks, I liked it too. Taken after a scene with my kid (I nanny) and I at the lake. She had to say goodbye to her barbie.  
NL- Thanks so much. And for the talk. You're great :) I'm glad you liked the chapter.  
Maddi- Thanks love!

* * *

Her phone rang next to her, and she turned over to look at it, smiling. She'd been staring at the ceiling for the past few minutes, thinking about her date with Jim that day. He hadn't told her much about what they would be doing, but whatever it was, she needed to wear something comfortable and green. For some reason, he'd really emphasized the green. She reached over her bed and flipped the phone open without looking at it, smiling up at the ceiling. "Hey…"

"Hi Sweetheart, I didn't think you'd be up yet," Pam's mom's voice came across the other line, and Pam felt her stomach drop lightly. _I'm not disappointed it's my mom…_

"Why would you call if you thought I'd be asleep?" Pam asked laughing.

"Just so I didn't forget. What are you up for anyway?" She asked.

"It's Saturday," Pam replied, smiling. "Date day."

"Ooh," her mom sounded like a twelve-year-old girl. "How are those going?"

Pam laughed lightly, watching her toes move around in circles. "They're fine…" Her mother was silent on the other line, her typical tactic to get Pam to talk more about something. "They're going good, Mom… I enjoy being with him."

"I bet you do…" Her mom trailed off, and Pam found her mouth dropping open.

"What does that mean?" She asked, giggling.

"He's a very good looking man," her mom replied, laughing. "I mean, if I wasn't married to your father, I might…"

"Mom! He's mine!" Pam laughed. "You got Dad!"

The line was silent for a moment, as Pam thought about what she'd just said. "He's yours?" Her mom asked, and Pam could feel her cheeks turning red.

"I meant he… Like, he's mine to go on dates with," Pam stuttered, pulling at the non-existent neckline of her camisole.

"Right, spill it, sugar bear," her mom said, and Pam knew she was done for.

"Well," Pam started, sitting up and looking around. She put her free hand to her forehead, "I don't know Mom… I mean, like you said, he's cute…"

"Pamela…"

"Uhm, I don't know Mom. I mean, he's my best friend." Pam trailed off a bit.

"Do you have feelings for him? Even miniscule ones?" She asked.

"I.. I think I do?" Pam said, chewing on her lip. "Is that possible? I mean, it's only been 2 months since Roy and I…"

"Pamela…"

"What, Mom? What? What are the 'Pamela's' for?" Pam asked, exasperated. _I'm sitting here telling her I have a schoolgirl crush on my best friend and she just sits there saying 'Pamela' over and over again. Guh. _

"Roy has nothing to do with Jim," her mom said, and Pam could feel her eyebrows scrunch. "I don't mean to judge you, honey, but from where I'm sitting, you fell out of love a long time before he ever threw a piece of lingerie under your bed."

Pam stood, staring at the phone for a moment, before whispering into the phone. "Mom, that's not true."

"It's not?"

Pam felt flustered. _How dare she say such a thing? How dare she judge me? God damn it, I wish I hadn't loved that son of a…_ "I loved him, Mom."

"I know you did, but there's a difference between loving someone and being in love with someone." Pam felt her heart flutter lightly. "And there's a difference between love and loved."

"I… Mom!" Pam snapped into the phone. Her mom didn't say anything, just waited for her to calm down a second, but before she could say anything else, Pam continued. "I just don't want to fall again."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to get my heart broken," Pam stated simply. It was the kind of statement that sounded like it had been thought about and rehearsed multiple times, but it still surprised Pam. She'd never realized what it was that she was so scared of, but now that it was out in the open, she felt like she'd known it forever.

"Not every guy is going to break your heart," Pam's mom replied, softly. "And some people really are worth it."

"Roy wasn't," Pam replied bitterly.

"Roy wasn't." Her mom repeated, her voice sure and steady. "That doesn't mean Jim isn't."

"I know…" Pam replied, her voice trailing. "I just don't want to ruin our friendship, you know? I mean what if something happens, and I lose him? I can't do that."

"Who says you will?" Her mom asked, and Pam's heart fluttered lightly. She wasn't sure why. "Sometimes you just have to take a chance, sugar bear."

"What if I'm not ready to take a chance?"

"What letter are you on?" Pam's mom asked, and Pam laughed.

"G. So we have a while." Pam responded, and Pam's mom smiled. "Maybe I'll get more comfortable as we go on…"

"I'm sure you will," her mom replied, smiling. They sat on the phone, both consumed with their own thoughts for quite a few seconds. _Me and Jim? Broken hearts? Maybe not? The rest of the alphabet? Friendships over? Oh crap…_

"Mom, what if I put myself out there and he doesn't feel the same way?" Pam panicked, pacing around her bedroom floor, gripping the phone tightly.

"Pam, the man has made you promise to leave a Saturday open for him for six months so he can woo you into thinking men aren't horrible creatures. I don't think you have to worry about that." Pam smiled at this thought, realization dawning on her. _Oh my god… No wonder he was so adamant…_

"Mom, you're—" she was interrupted by the beeping on the other end of the line, and she pulled the phone away from her ear, seeing his lopsided smile grinning back at her next to the small message 'Jim calling'. "I have to go, Mom. He's calling!"

"Call me later. I love you," her mom replied.

"I love you too," Pam replied, pulling the phone off her ear to click over.

"Hi there," she said softly, her voice higher than normal. _Hi there? God, Pam, keep your clothes on._

"Well, hello," he said, and she could hear his smile through his voice. "This was supposed to be your wakeup call, but who were you talking to at nine-thirty in the morning?"

She laughed. "My mom."

"Oh, well I sure hope you cleaned your room," Jim replied, and she rolled her eyes. Sometimes his jokes were _so_ bad. "I mean, I wouldn't want you to have to stay home because you left your toy trains out on the floor."

She laughed a courtesy laugh. _Oh man, are your jokes always this bad, or am I just noticing this now? _"I picked them up," she replied._ Oh, good one, Pam. You could be on Last Comic Standing with jokes like that._

"Well, listen…" Jim started, and she could feel the butterflies in her stomach rising. _Why is it that once you admit to having feelings for someone, the butterflies start flying like crazy and everything is so much more…expressive? _"We have a bit of a drive today…"

"Okay!" Pam said, shutting her eyes. _God, don't sound so damn chipper, Pam._

He smiled, "I'm glad you're excited."

"You should be," she replied, twiddling her fingers. "Where are we going?"

"Yeah… Right, Pam." He replied, and she laughed. "How long do you need to get ready?"

"I was born ready," she replied, the competitive drive within her taking over for some strange reason.

"I meant to put your face on and be a girl and do all of that unnecessary stuff you do to ensure that you're _beautiful_," she couldn't see him, but the way he'd emphasized the last word in an almost joking manner made her heart jump. _Had he just called her beautiful?_

"It's 9:30 now," she said, looking at her watch. "If you're here at 11, I'll be more than ready."

"What time zone is that?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at the phone before promptly pressing the red hang-up button.

She smiled to herself and walked over to her closet, thumbing through the articles of clothing. She laughed to herself, remembering how when she'd first moved in she'd arranged all of her clothes by size and color—now that she'd been living here, they were scattered. She shook her head lightly as she sorted through them, deciding that perhaps she should pick what she wanted to wear on the bottom and then pick a top to match.

She opened her dresser drawer, rummaging through the various shorts inside. She pulled out a pair of medium wash jean shorts, unfolding them and looking them over. She pulled them on her body, and then walked over to her closet, thumbing through her tops once more before finally pulling out a short-sleeved green shirt with white printed leaves all down the side. She slipped it on over her camisole and walked into the bathroom, grinning when she saw her hair was curled to abnormal perfection. She quickly grabbed the hairspray, spraying it in place. She put silver earrings through her ears while walking over to her jewelry box. She didn't have many necklaces to choose one, but she knew she had to wear one with the scoop line of her shirt.

She wasn't normally into fashion. She thought it was kind of silly, to be honest. But really, it wasn't so much that fashion was silly… It was more that she was almost scared of it. She watched all of these girls go out dressed up in beautiful necklaces and bracelets and earrings with gorgeous clothes, and yeah, sure, she'd love to look that great and actually be noticed for a change. But part of her was scared that if she went out with some sort of "fashionable" ensemble, people may notice her _too_ much, and she'd be known as "that girl who wore…" And she didn't want that.

But today was different. Even though she prided herself on being the plain-Jane, and even though she told everyone that she wanted to find someone that loved her regardless of how much she dressed up, she was a realist… She knew that boys liked pretty things. So she faced her fears of fashion and beauty and tried to step up to the plate, desperately hoping that she could manage to come out looking better, rather than worse.

She slipped on her flip flops at 10:25, glancing at the clock and groaning. He wouldn't be here for another half hour. She sighed. _What can I do for half an hour?_ She walked over to the bookshelf and grabbed her favorite Emily Giffin chick-lit, "Something Blue," opening it to a random page and began to read. She didn't really need to start at the beginning—she'd read the book multiple times cover to cover and could probably quote it in her sleep. She'd read a paragraph, then get up and check her watch. Then she'd read another paragraph, then get up and check outside. She'd stand up, pull her shorts down, check out her butt in the mirror, make sure her hair looked okay and her teeth hadn't magically turned blue since twenty minutes ago when she'd brushed them. Then she'd sit back down, and read the next paragraph, before starting her routine all over again.

She heard his car pull up at fifteen minutes to ten, and she quickly put down the book, rushing over to the window to look outside. She saw his car turn off and she smiled with her mind racing. _Crap, what do I do? I don't want him to know I've been just sitting here waiting for him…_ She quickly ran back over to where she'd been curled up reading and picked up her book, opening it and staring at the pages, convincing herself that she actually was reading. Really, she was seeing the words, but she was counting the steps it should take him to get to her door.

He sat in his car, staring at the clock on his dash. He'd left fifteen minutes earlier than he should have, paranoid he'd get lost on his way to her apartment. It wasn't like he didn't know where her apartment was—hell, he'd picked it out—he just didn't want to be late. Now it was 10:47, and he was watching the clock slowly turn. He'd thought about just driving around some more, but he was scared that if he did that, he might not make it back in time. _At 10:55 I'll go knock on her door. _He drummed his fingernails against the steering wheel.

_God, I must be really nervous… He just got here thirty seconds ago and it's feeling like it's been six minutes, _Pam thought, turning the page as she "finished reading" the page in her novel.

_10:52. Three more minutes. Oh, God, I can't take it anymore. _He got out of his car, shutting the door behind him and made his way up the stairs, trying to slow his feet a little so he wouldn't be abnormally late, but still, he felt he was going too slow.

She sat in the chair, waiting, anticipating. When the knock on the door finally came, she jumped, flustered, and put her book down, biting her lip, trying to figure out how to make it seem like she hadn't been curled up in the chair right next to the door waiting for him. She took a lap around the apartment, waited until she got to the kitchen to yell "Coming!" and then opened the door a moment later, greeted by his waiting smile.

"Hey greenie," he said, and she rolled her eyes, taking in the sight of him in dark blue jeans and a bright green t-shirt, the words "Gettin' Lucky in Kentucky" plastered across the front. She laughed, pointing at his shirt.

"Too bad you live in Pennsylvania," she chortled, and he laughed along with her, giving her a quizzical look. _She's so cute when she laughs… Hey, she looks really good today._

"You look great," he said, commending himself for telling her smoothly and not tripping over his own words. "Cmon, let's hit the road, jack."

She grinned and closed the door behind her, locking it shut and bounced down the stairs to his Corolla. "Are we on our way to Kentucky? Because I am not a seventh date kinda gal."

"I know. You're like a third or a fourth since you're already pregnant," he said, winking at her. She grinned, placing her hand on her tummy.

"So, seriously, where are we off to?" She asked again.

"Patience is a virtue."

"Screw virtues!" Pam smiled, laughing. Jim grinned and climbed in the car, pointing behind him.

"The cooler has an abundant supply of G is for Grape Soda."

"I should have known," she laughed, lifting up the top of the cooler's lid. "Leaping Lizards, Jim! How long is this road trip going to last?" She asked, counting seventeen cans of grape soda.

"Leaping Lizards? Who are you, Annie?" He asked, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Suck it, Halpert."

He smiled, "MapQuest claims it only takes two hours… Usually, it takes me around four or five."

"Can't get the Corolla to go above 5?" She asked. He shook his head. "Why in the heavens does it take you four or five hours to drive what takes the normal population two and a half."

"I would hardly call MapQuest the 'normal population'," he grinned. She rolled her eyes. "Well, I have a tradition."

"Tradition?" She asked, her mind drifting back to _Fiddler on the Roof_ renditions with her siblings, her older brother always singing the song loud and boisterously.

"Tradition," He stated, getting on the ramp to the interstate. "The tradition is that for every exit we see, we have to get off and go to a gas station."

"Jim, that's ridiculous!" Pam said, her voice rising. "There are probably 100 exits from here to wherever we're going!"

"That's not all." Jim replied, grinning. "We also have to take notes on each gas station. If we find a really good one, we're taking pictures."

"Define 'a really good one'," Pam stated, cringing.

"The kind with top hats and t-shirts that say 'Welcome to Pennsylvania!' and porn DVDs and you know, the works."

"What is the purpose of this?" Pam asked, sinking lower into her seat and scowling up at him, trying to hide her smile at how ridiculous he was.

"Purpose? Purpose! Pam, there's so much purpose in this plan I can't even think straight!" Pam giggled despite herself. _Try saying that ten times fast. _"First of all, we get amazing pictures. Second of all, next time we make this road trip, we'll know which gas station to stop at."

"But if it's a tradition, next time we make this road trip we'll be stopping at every single gas station anyway." Pam pointed out. Jim looked deep in thought for a moment.

"We'll have memories. We'll get to know the managers of the stores. Where to get the pizza, where not to get the pizza."

"Most people don't get pizza from gas stations without feeling a little off about the idea," Pam replied, laughing.

"Okay, little miss spoil sport, shush it." She smiled, reaching out to turn the knob on his radio, but he put his hand on top of hers, sending a jolt through her body. He pulled her hand off of the radio and grinned, "There are a few CDs on the floor. We're only listening to CDs today."

She looked at him, raising an eyebrow, before pulling the CD cases up onto her lap and flipping through them. Green Day, Good Charlotte, Goo Goo Dolls, George Strait, G Mix 1, G Mix 2. She rolled her eyes at him. "Are you kidding me?"

"I am not. I believe what's in now is Guster."

"No Gavin?" She pouted, looking out the window and he smiled.

"He's on one of the mixes," he replied. "I know you like him." She nodded, smiling, and put in one of the mix CDs, grabbing a grape soda from the backseat.

"So…" she started, and he looked over at her, and then quickly looked away. "You're really not going to tell me where we're going?"

"You are extra anxious today," he replied, laughing. "Come on, let's play a game." She clapped her hands and bounced in her seat like a three year old, and he looked over at her, grinning. "Maybe later I can teach you your colors too."

"That's green!" She said, pointing at his shirt, an excited look on her face. He rolled his eyes, laughing at her. "Okay, so what's this game we can play?"

"Well, if you'll look under your feet, there are two bingo boards down there."

"Bingo?" she asked, looking down and pulling them out, studying them. "I've never played bingo in the car…"

Jim turned to her, his eyes wide. "You've never played Bingo in the car!?! Where are you from, anyway?"

"Scranton, Pennsylvania," she replied dumbly, looking down at the boards. All of a sudden, she flipped down one of the little squares on the board. "I saw Cracker Barrel."

"Will you do mine for me?"

"Sissy, can't do bingo and drive at the same time?"

"I have precious cargo!" he defended himself. She smiled, and he continued. "Do you want to die by way of a Semi Truck?" She was silent for a moment before taking his card to check what they'd seen. "Oh! Gas stations!" Jim said, veering off quickly onto the exit ramp.

"God, Jim! Precious Cargo!" She screamed, her hand hugging her chest. He smiled at her as he parked, and she smiled back at him, taking in how green his eyes looked next to his bright green shirt. For a moment, it didn't bother her that he'd almost killed her.

"C'mon," he smiled, taking his camera and getting out of the car. He walked up to the sidewalk and waited for her to join him. She thought it was silly he did such a thing at first, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized it was because she'd made herself think it was silly, expecting it to happen all of those years with Roy that it never did.

It was such a simple gesture; she wasn't sure why it evoked so many feelings inside of her, or why she had to compare it with Roy, but it did and she did. The more she thought about Roy, though, the more she started to doubt what she was doing with Jim. It wasn't that she ever wanted to get back with Roy, but she really had, at one point, been in love with him. He'd really 'tickled her fancy' as her grandmother used to say. But, love does grow colder.

He led her into the gas station, her mind still whirring about Roy. Football jerseys, hot chocolate, blankets, Wave Runners, candlelit dinners, mountains cold locker rooms, chemistry homework, Pringles, bad jokes, a beer or four, used condoms, cold pizza, dirty bathrooms.

"Oh my god, Pam, look at this," Jim said, walking over to the middle of the store. She shook her head slightly to jolt Roy out of her brain._ Jim. With Jim. Jim. Not Roy. Jim._ She followed him until he stopped at a large display of sombreros. "Sombreros! In Pennsylvania! Oh man." He picked two up off of the display and plopped one down on her head, and she laughed as he put the other on his.

She looked around the gas station, finally spotting a bin with something sticking out of it. She wandered over to the bin, leaving Jim by the sombreros, and when she looked inside, she couldn't believe her eyes. "Jim!" she called and he came rushing over. They looked down into the bin together, and then up at each other, both of their eyes wide with delight and surprise. Jim reached down and pulled out two light sabers, glancing at her.

"Darth Vader or Skywalker?" He asked her, and she grinned, reaching for the green light saber, leaving him to be Darth Vader. He grinned and pulled the camera out of his pocket, walking around the store until he finally found a middle-aged woman. "Hi, ma'am, sorry to disturb you, but can you take a picture of us?" The woman looked them up and down carefully, took the camera out of his hand and watched them as they reassembled themselves, Pam on the floor, pointing her light saber up at Jim's stomach, and Jim above her, pointing his at her throat. The woman laughed and took the picture, handing the camera back to Jim as they went to go put up the sombreros and light sabers.

As she was stacking up the last sombrero, Pam caught the evil glance of the gas station manager, and she grabbed Jim's wrist, whispering urgently "we need to go." He looked at her as she pulled him out of the gas station and got in the car, and he laughed. "That guy! He was giving me the evil eye!"

Jim laughed. "You're scared of the clerk at the gas station?" She grinned, pulling out a grape soda as he got back on the interstate. She quickly checked her bingo boards, purposely forgetting to check Jim's as he drove. About ten minutes later, he looked over at her, his eyebrows rising.

"You little cheat!" he exclaimed, and she giggled, pursing her lips together in an effort to keep from smiling. "You stink. No more Bingo."

"My turn to pick a game?" She asked, and he rolled his eyes, affirming. "Okay, you got any paper in this car?"

"I work at a paper company," he said, pointing to the backseat. She laughed and pulled a ream of paper from the backseat, opening it. She pulled a pen out of her purse, wrote the letters M-A-S-H across the top, and grinned.

"Okay, I need four girls."

"Umm… What are we playing?" Jim asked, looking over at the paper, and sighing. "Um, four girls. Pam…"

"I got her already."

He laughed. "Pam, FelMel," she turned her nose up in disgust. "I thought you'd like that one. Pam, FelMel, Katy and Britney."

"Who's Britney?"

"Britney Spears," he replied, and she laughed.

"Okay, four guys."

"What, in case I'm gay?" he asked.

"No, Jim. You have to have a best man in your wedding." Pam replied, as if he was the stupidest person in the world.

"Okay, Alan, Michael, Dwight, and Kevin," Jim replied, and Pam stared at him in disgust.

"Oh god, I'm hoping for Alan," she replied, and he laughed lightly. They went through the rest of the categories: cars, kids, dates, pets, and a few other random ones Pam put in to make the name officially change from mash to 'Dirty Mash'. He picked the number four, and she quickly went down the list, crossing off the fourth item, smiling slightly every time she crossed off one she didn't want. Finally, she pulled the list closer to her and grinned.

"Jim Halpert, this is your future. Are you ready?"

"Born ready."

"You will be married to Pam in 2010," she looked up, trying to see his reaction, but all he did was lick his lips slightly, no expression on his face. "You will live in a house—with a terrace, of course—" he rolled his eyes, "you'll own a Toyota Corolla—lookie there—you'll have three kids; a turtle—we'll name him Rapid—and that's all…"

"Woah, what happened to dirty Mash?" he asked, and she blushed, pushing the piece of paper in his lap. _I am not telling him out loud that we're going to be having sex six times a week when we're married… Married? God, I hope MASH comes true._

He smiled, veering off the interstate and to the gas station and she laughed, rolling her eyes, but secretly enjoying the game they'd been playing. She looked at her watch, 12:15 and they were hardly six exits away from Scranton.

* * *

At four-thirty, Jim pulled into the driveway of a tiny house. "We're a little early," he turned to Pam, and she laughed, but got out of the car. 

"Where are we?" She asked, and he smiled at her, opened his mouth, when all of a sudden, he heard a voice from the doorway.

"Jimmy!" Pam turned to see an old woman with curly silver-grey hair coming out toward them, a pink apron wrapped around her. "Oh Jimmy, it's so good to see you!" She kissed Jim's cheek and he laughed at her, wrapping his arms around her in a hug.

"Grandma, it's so good to see you," he smiled, and Pam's eyes widened. They were at his grandmother's house. They hugged for a moment before Jim pulled away from her, turning to Pam. "Grandma, this is Pam."

"Hi Pam," she smiled warmly, enveloping Pam in a hug. "It's so good to finally meet you; Jim's told me so much about you." She looked over at Jim, and he shrugged, smiling. "Every week he tells me all about you, it's so nice to see you in person."

Pam grinned, "Every week?"

"Oh dear, we have weekly phone calls. I like to know about Jim's little girlfriends."

"Grandma!" Jim protested, his cheeks turning red, but Grandma didn't pay attention to him.

She took Pam's hand, smiling, "Come on, we need to fatten you up. You're entirely too skinny." Pam blushed, looking up at Jim, and mouthed _skinny? _He shrugged in a way that assured her he thought she was perfect, and she smiled, following the woman into the brick house.

She led Pam through the house, and Pam looked around, noticing the angel figurines and small crocheted words of wisdom. She smiled, looking up at the walls, noticing all of the pictures of Jim's family. She smiled when she came across one of Jim with his siblings, his goofy, lopsided grin evident even at age four. She sat down on one of the couches in the living room after Grandma had insisted, and Jim sat next to her as Grandma made her way into the kitchen.

Pam leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Girlfriends?"

Jim blushed. "Umm…"

"As in plural?"

"Umm…" Jim said. He was thankfully interrupted by Grandma walking into the room.

"Pam dear, you aren't allergic to pecans or cherry or gingerbread, are you?"

"No ma'am," she said, her eyes twinkling. "I believe those are all fine…"

"Good," Grandma said, walking back toward the kitchen.

"Grandma, you really don't have to make us anything… We…"

He was cut off by Grandma, "No, no, darling. You and Pam need more food on your bones."

"Thank you grandma," Pam said, and she grinned, winking at Pam before disappearing again.

Jim leaned down, laughing into his hand. "I can't believe you just called my grandmother grandma."

"Well, you never told me what else to call her," Pam whispered, and Jim shrugged.

"Well her name is—" he was interrupted again by Grandma's voice from the kitchen.

"Jimmy! Why don't you show Pam your old room?" Jim laughed and stood up.

"Yes grandma!" he called, pulling Pam up and toward the back of the house. "When I was little," he said, opening the door, "I always wanted to stay at grandma's house for a week every summer. Even when my brothers and sisters were sick of it, I would come."

Pam smiled, entering the room and looking around. The bed had a navy blue comforter, and pictures of Jim's high school memories were all over the place, littered with a few pictures from college. She looked around the walls, and then back to him, and back at a painting that was on his wall. "I thought you threw that away," she said softly.

He looked up; remembering for the first time that one of her paintings was on the wall. She'd given it to him for his birthday the first year they'd met, and he'd never dreamed of throwing it away, it was too good. "Of course not, why would I throw it away?"

"Well, it wasn't up in your house or anything," she said, running her fingers over his dresser, pausing to think, before looking up at him quickly. "I thought you came here every summer when you were little?" She asked, laughing. "That painting is only a few years old…"

"Well… Um, you know how I always take a week long vacation in the summer?" He asked, and her eyes went wide with laughter.

"Oh my god!" She laughed, heeling over. "You visit your grandma every summer! You're 28, Jim!" He smiled and ran his hand through his hair sheepishly.

"Okay, on to the rest of the tour…"

"Do you guys make cookies together too?"

"Umm… Yes…." Jim laughed, and she stared at him, her head shaking slightly. _A man who visits his grandmother every summer? Wow. Never heard of that before. Sign me up!_

They walked back down the hall, Jim showing her his favorite parts of the house before they went back into the living room just as Grandma had. Pam took a seat on the couch, and Jim went to sit next to her, but Grandma was too quick.

"I would like to sit next to your little girlfriend, Jim. Go sit in the rocking chair." Jim looked at Pam, his eyes widening as he went to go sit in the rocking chair, moving the thread and needles that rested there. "The pies and cookies are in the oven."

"Grandma, you really didn't have to…"

"Shush." Jim shut up immediately, and Pam felt a little giggle rising inside of her. "He's always telling me not to make him food, but the boy doesn't eat!"

She grinned, glancing at Jim, "I guess I'm not feeding him well enough." He grinned, shaking his head to show her that she was, in fact, not feeding him enough.

"Well, maybe when you come for vacation with Jim this summer I can teach you how to keep him fed." Pam's eyes went wide, as did Jim's, and she stuttered lightly. She then turned to Jim, "Jim, what have you been doing keeping this one locked up? She's much prettier than any of the other girls you've dated," Pam felt a blush creep to her cheeks and she looked down in her lap, then back up at Jim. He was smiling, as Grandma continued, "Much prettier than that Fuschia girl, or whatever her name was." Pam snorted, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Yes, she is much prettier than Fuschia," Jim replied, smiling.

"Jim, I think I hear something in the back room. Will you go check, please?"

"Grandma, there's nothing back there… You don't even own a cat."

"James…" She scolded, and he got up, sighing, and went to the back room, appeasing his grandmother. She turned toward Pam, and smiled. "So, dear," she said, placing her hand on Pam's and turning toward her. "Where are you two going?"

"Oh!" Pam exclaimed, playing with her fingers nervously. "Um, we haven't really talked about where we're… going, but I'm, um—"

"Oh, no, dear! I'm talking about your date!" Grandma exclaimed, patting Pam's hand. "Where are you going on your date?"

Pam laughed, "I'm not really sure, actually… It's a long story, but he's taking me on surprise dates every weekend."

She eyed her curiously, begging her to go on. "Well," Pam started. "I don't know how much Jim's told you about me…" she paused, "but I used to be engaged to this…" Pam paused, unsure what to call Roy. Man just didn't seem to work.

"Jackass, go on."

Pam smiled, chuckling lightly. "So, I was engaged to this jackass. And he wasn't exactly the faithful kind," she looked up to see an angry look on Grandma's face.

"What a fucker." Pam looked at Grandma, her eyes wide with shock before she burst into fits of laughter. "Don't be afraid to call it what it is," Grandma said, using the moment to teach.

"Literally," Pam said, trailing off while Grandma took her turn to laugh. "Anyway, I left his sorry behind, and –"

"Ass." Grandma corrected her.

Pam grinned. "I left his sorry ass and somehow ended up on Jim's doorstep." Grandma smiled at that, squeezing Pam's hand. "So Jim took me in, and I was pretty upset, and you know, calling men scum and hating on the whole species…"

Grandma opened her mouth to respond, when she heard footsteps coming down the hall. "JAMES HALPERT! I STILL HEAR THAT DAMN THING!" She yelled, and the women heard Jim heave a sigh and walk right back into the bedroom. "Go on, dear," Grandma prodded Pam.

"So, anyway, Jim told me that he wasn't going to let me get away with swearing off men. So he made me agree to him taking me out on 26 dates, one for each letter of the alphabet." She smiled, and Grandma put two hands over her chest.

"That boy overdoes himself. He's such a little romantic," Grandma gushed, laughing. "He doesn't realize all he has to do is notice a new bath mat and he's gonna get a little somethin' somethin'."

Pam snorted. "Anyway, today we're on G."

"G is for groping?" Grandma asked, raising her eyebrows. Pam's mouth dropped open, her head shaking slightly, laughter threatening to pour out of her mouth, but still, nothing came out.

"Yeah, um.. Wow.. We.. Wow," Pam stuttered, blinking. "We're not really there yet?"

"Why not? Jim is an attractive man." Grandma stated, and Pam's face turned red.

"He is, it's just that…" She could hear footsteps coming down the hall again, and she stopped talking. Grandma got up off the couch and walked into the hallway to have a private chat with her grandson.

"JAMES BURKE HALPERT! Get your ass outside, now!" Pam's eyes went wide as she heard Grandma yelling at Jim.

"But Grandma, I—"

"NOW!" She heard Jim shuffle past Grandma and outside onto the deck. She wandered back into the room, straightening her apron, and smiled softly. "I'm sorry, Pam. You were talking about sex, continue."

"I just… We're not even together," Pam said.

"Why not?" Grandma asked, and Pam wrinkled her forehead, unsure how to answer.

"It's just… it's too soon."

"Not if it's love," Grandma said simply, and Pam thought about her comment for a moment. "Love only ends too soon. It never starts too soon." The timer on the oven dinged, and Grandma jumped up, jolting Pam out of her daydream. "Come help me, dear. We can talk more in the kitchen." Pam nodded, walking into the kitchen and clearing off the counter.

"It's easy to see you're at least a little interested in my grandson," She went on, pulling out the cherry pie.

"That's a fair assumption," Pam replied, looking around nervously before leaning against the counter. "I mean, he's pretty amazing…"

"Thank you." Grandma said, laughing. "Why do you think his parents sent him to me a week every summer? Somebody had to straighten that child out." Pam laughed. "And he treats you right?"

"He's a perfect gentleman," Pam smiled, her mind drifting off to the moment in front of the gas station. Grandma watched her for a moment, before Pam finally realized she'd zoned out, and she smiled sheepishly.

"Well, he's obviously extremely smitten with you," Grandma said, and Pam looked at her.

"Really?"

"Oh, dear." She gave Pam a look that easily said that Pam needed to stop doubting herself. "He can't even stay in the back room for three minutes without wondering what you're talking about." Pam smiled and nodded. "And you're all he talks about on the phone." Pam looked surprised. "And he keeps staring at you. In fact, he's staring at you now through the glass pane," Her face turned from kind to angry as she gave Jim the evil eye that Pam had seen from the gas station manager earlier that day. She pointed at him, and then pointed away from the glass pane. Pam turned around just soon enough to see Jim's face go pale as he ran to the other side of the lawn.

"So, you think he…"

"Yeah, he's got the hots for you," Grandma said, and Pam could feel the blush filling her face. "Here's what you need to do," Grandma said, pulling the last pie out of the oven and setting it on the counter to cool. She walked over to the cupboard and pulled out a few glasses, filling them with water, and handing them to Pam. "First of all, you need to touch him more."

Pam's eyes widened, but Grandma continued. "You should see them beg when you touch them," she raised her eyebrows, and Pam pulled on her jeans to keep from sinking to the ground in embarrassment.

"Grandma!"

"Okay, so touch him more often, and tell him you had a nice time." Grandma said, and Pam nodded, feeling like she was in high school again. "Dress a bit more provocatively. Let him see some of your goods." Pam's eyes widened.

"Oh Grandma," she put her face in her hands, laughing to herself.

"You know, I know a thing or two about my grandson," Grandma said, taking Pam's hand and squeezing it lightly. "He's a gentleman, and like you said, you just got out of a long, painful relationship. He's not going to want to pressure you into anything."

Pam nodded lightly. "I know that."

"So you're going to have to make the first move, kiddo," Grandma said, patting Pam's head. Pam smiled lightly.

"I'm just scared," she replied, puffing air out of her mouth.

"Scared ain't nothin' you want holdin' ya back," Grandma said, getting up and opening the glass door that had Jim locked outside. "JIM! HERE, BOY!" She called, and Jim came through the door, staring at her with a bemused expression.

"I'm not a golden retriever, Grandma," he said, sitting down next to Pam. "Yummy! Can I have a cookie?"

"You are such a 12 year old," Pam laughed, passing the plate the cookies on to him. He grinned. "What time do we have to be wherever it is we need to be?"

"It starts at seven," he replied, taking a bite of the cookie, "So we should be there around six thirty or so."

"It's 5:20 right now," Pam stated, and Jim's eyes went wide. "Oh, wow! And I still have to feed you dinner." Pam grinned, and Grandma took a newspaper, rolled it up, and hit Jim over the side of the head.

"Get to, moron."

Jim touched the back of his head, rubbing it where it hurt. "I get to feed you dinner."

"That's right. You need to learn your manners, Jimmy," Grandma said, winking at Pam. "Any lad would be lucky to take Pam out to dinner."

Jim smiled. "Sure would," and Grandma gave Pam a look that easily said 'told you so'. "And you better let her order off more than the dollar menu too," Grandma huffed, walking into the other room.

"I'm so sorry," Jim said, turning to Pam. "I had no idea she'd kidnap you."

Pam dismissed his apology, "She's wonderful. I absolutely love her."

"She's a character, isn't she?"

"Mmhmm. I can see why you visit her a week out of every summer," Pam laughed.

"What were you two talking about?" He asked, and she smiled, cocking her head to the side and giving him the same stare he always gave her when she asked where they were going.

"Where are we going?" She asked him.

He smiled. "Hold that thought." He went out to the car, leaving her sitting on the barstools, eating gingerbread cookies. When he came back through the door, he handed her a wrapped present, and she stared at him, her eyebrows raised.

"What is it?!?" she asked excitedly, and he couldn't help but see the resemblance between her and a small puppy.

"Open it and see," he replied, smiling. She looked up at him, flashed him one of those smiles, _oh God, not that smile… _and began ripping the paper off. When all of the wrapping paper was gone, she pulled up the shirt that rested inside and unfolded it, staring at the face on the front.

"Gavin DeGraw?" She asked, smiling. "Wait! You're taking me to his concert?" She asked, and he laughed, nodding, and reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and handed her two tickets to see one of her favorite artists. It was painful for him to know he would soon be attending a Gavin DeGraw concert, but he'd do it for her any day.

"So G is for Gavin?" She smiled. "God, I've been trying to get these tickets forever, but they were all sold out…"

"I know. I bought them about a year ago when they first went on sale. Just to make sure you could go," He said, and she smiled up at him.

"Thank you," she said softly, and he nodded.

"Anytime. Now, come on. I've got to get you to Wendy's so you can order off the 2 dollar menu." She laughed and jumped off the stool. _I could get used to this. I could get SO used to this.

* * *

_

Jim steered the car through the narrow streets of Scranton, looking down at the sleeping beauty in the seat next to him. Her hair was a mess and her breathing deep, but he couldn't help but think he was lucky just to know her name.

* * *

Review! Holding it ransom for reviews. I know this chapter was a lot different than the others, but I hope you still loved it!! 


	9. H is for Heartbreak

Well, Merry Christmas. Here you go. Toughest chapter to write so far, but I hope you enjoy it. Hank's story is real. It was told to me many years ago when I was a kid doing the same thing they're doing, so... There you go.

Reviews:

Literati- Thanks!  
Ash- I love grandma.  
Christine- It did! Thanks! Hence the G is for Genitals--that's where that came from!  
Yabberli-Oh I know, I want Jim. Bring him to me, please.  
Alison-Aww thanks. Well, it's more like that just happened, but whatever. Haha. Of course I made a Jenna reference. I can Jenna reference all day. Ooh! Idea!  
DeanParadise-aww thanks! It felt less funny and more serious to me, but hey, that's okay I guess.  
Henantz- I know, grandmas are all alike. They're all into the Jesus game but they love them some alcohol and dirty words :)  
KT- glad we're on the same page! And grandma is adorably awkward.  
Alice- I know right, how cute? Doesn't he look the type?  
Kerber- Hah! thanks!  
Code- oh, jenna fischer!  
Ashley- HAH! Good!  
Anon- Thanks! Hmm.. think what you want. Kissing is a special chapter.  
Allison- Thanks!  
Brooke- I love Gavin... He reappears later.  
Elly- Yeah yeah yeah, thanks! Hehe. You're amazing.  
Meg- People tell me I am Pam. Am I?  
Browndoggy- I'm glad you love her!  
Dejah- Thanks! And you could!  
Eagle- Hah, good luck with that. Thanks!  
Xabsolution- Wow! Thanks!!! That's a lot to pick up on... I can't think of another one I put in there, but who knows.  
Jgrrl- Oh yay! Here's your early christmas gift!  
Maddi-I'm so glad you loved it! Here's your update!  
Rabidfrodo- EXCELLENT name. And I met your grandma, and that's why she's in the story. Kidding, she's my grandma.  
SmallTuna- Oh wow! Thank you so much!! MASH rocks. Duh. No you cant marry him, hehe. I gots him.  
Mrs.BTuna- She is, she is. Haha and thanks. Genitals were in the line about touching, from grandma. Not mentioned explicitly, but hey... And I'll read your story in the next few days--promise.  
Bravery- Wow! Thanks!  
Amanda- Thanks s much! SHe is cool!  
Claire- Shout out to you below. Heh. nd I'm gad you love it.  
Dancer- I'm glad!  
Katy- Thanks so much!!! I love grandma.  
Ruli- I'm glad you liked it! Thanks. And yeah, she's awesome!!!

* * *

The phone rang six times before her answering machine picked up.

"Hi, it's Pam. I can't get to the phone, so leave a message and I'll call you back." He hung up. A message wouldn't do. She had to answer. He dialed her home phone number, waiting through four rings before:

"You've reached Pam. Well, not really, you got my machine. Leave a message—if you're not a telemarketer or really weird, I'll call you back."

He hung up again, groaning. _Why hadn't he remembered to tell her their date started earlier today? She was going to kill him._

He dialed the number again, counting the rings (3) until he heard her grouchy voice. "I don't want to buy anything," she muttered. "So go away."

"Well," Jim said, in his fake telemarketer voice, "We're selling celebrity sex tapes. Are you 18 or older, miss?"

"Well, what kind of celebrity?" Her voice came in an interested groan, mixed with sleep, and Jim's eyes went wide.

"Not relevant," he muttered.

"Well, how much does the tape cost?"

"Not relevant," he repeated, blushing.

Her voice became lighter, "Well, what time should I expect this, uh, video to arrive?"

"Around 9 AM," he replied, smiling as he realized she'd been playing along the whole time.

"What should I wear?"

"Are you seriously asking me what you should wear when someone delivers you a porno?"

"Umm," she trailed off, pausing for a second before giggling lightly. "Well, if the UPS guy is _in_ the porno, I'll want to make an impression, won't I?"

Jim laughed. "I have a feeling the delivery man is one of those t-shirt and jeans types…"

"Well, I can rock the All-American Girl look," she smiled, and he heard rustling, as he assumed she was climbing out of bed. Mission of Phone Call: Accomplished.

"Well, the UPS man will see you at 9," he smiled, and she laughed. "See you later, Beesly."

"Bye, Jim," she smiled, and he could hear it through her voice.

He looked up at the clock. 8:27. He hadn't given her much time to get ready, but honestly, how much time did she need to throw on jeans and a t-shirt and look cute? He wandered into the kitchen, pulling out a striped bowl and a spoon and pouring himself a bowl of Frosted Flakes. He took a bite, going over the day's plan in his head.

She was the kind of girl that would love the date he'd planned for her. It wasn't a conventional date in any sense, but he was convinced it would be great. They would both enjoy it, and, as an added bonus, they'd be helping others.

He glanced at the clock again, watching the last digit turn, making it 8:38. He grinned, _time to go_. It only took 10 minutes to get to her apartment, but he didn't want to be late.

He got in his car, cursing as the music blasted through the speakers, scaring him out of his skin. He took the familiar route to her house, surprised by the sudden jump inside his chest as he turned onto her street.

He parked the car outside of her apartment and glanced up at her window, surprised to see her staring out of it, a smile on her face as her fingers brushed against the window pane. He stepped out of the car, looking up at the window and smiled, waving at her.

She waved back at him, leaving the window as he headed up the stairs. She opened the door before he even reached the top of the stairs, and she leaned against the doorway, grinning.

"Where's your uniform?"

"Shush," he said, grinning.

"You're early," she stated, opening the door wider to let him in, and he stepped inside. "I'm not quite ready."

"You look plenty ready," he said, shocking himself at his forwardness. Nobody could pull off jeans and a t-shirt like she could.

"Oh, yeah, right," she laughed, heading into her bedroom. "Shoes or sandals?"

"Shoes," he replied, and she stuck her head out of the bedroom.

"Really?" He nodded and she shrugged, pulling out some socks and a pair of sneakers, walking out to the living room and sitting across from him on the couch.

"How are you?" Jim asked, trying to be polite.

"Fine, thanks," she said, putting on her left sock.

"Are those care bears socks?" Jim asked, and Pam smiled, nodding.

"They're cute," she reasoned.

"Are they left over from kindergarten?"

She looked up, smiling in response, then looked back down. "So, are you going to tell me where we're going today?"

"Sure."

"Really?" Pam's head shot up, a surprised look on her face.

"Really," he smiled.

"So?"

"We're going to the homeless shelter," She looked up at him, a quizzical look. "Every Saturday they feed food to the homeless around town. It's a program called Echo."

"Oh, yeah, I've heard of that," Pam said, tying her shoes.

"Well, you and I are volunteering I think lunch starts at 11 and lasts until 1. We've got to be there soon to help them set up, and then we'll stay a little later to help them take down."

Pam smiled. "That sounds great. Let's go."

Jim grinned, watching her face out of the corner of his eye. He knew she'd like doing this—she was just that type of girl. Granted, that wasn't why he had arranged it, but it was why he'd decided to bring her along, rather than going by himself like he'd done before.

The ride there was short, made shorter by her small giggles over silly things she relayed to him. "You know what I think is funny?" she asked, and he chuckled.

"Not until you tell me."

"We see each other six days a week, and yet, there's always something I have to tell you."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I mean I see you all day, every day, and I don't run out of things to tell you. It just blows my mind, sometimes. How we go through so many experiences in a day. We can talk for hours and there's still more to say."

"Yeah, you do talk a lot," he said, and she swatted his arm, laughing.

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do." He pulled into the driveway of the shelter, and they got out of the car, heading inside.

* * *

Pam stood at the line, serving some mashed potatoes on the plate of an older man in front of her. "Hi, how are you?" she smiled at him, thoroughly enjoying her experience. 

"Doing just fine, thank you," he smiled at her warmly, moving down the line. Pam looked behind him, seeing nobody was following him, and she quickly began to cover the containers of food in order to keep them warm for the next batch of people to come in. Jim had gone off to the back to get more bread. She noticed an open seat across from the man she'd just served, and he looked up, smiling, and waved her over. She smiled back at him and put her serving spoon in the mashed potatoes, making her way over to him.

"I hope this seat's not taken," she grinned, pulling the chair across from him out.

"I make it a habit not to deny a pretty lady a seat," he replied, and she smiled. "I'm Hank."

"Hi Hank, I'm Pam. It's nice to meet you," she said, pouring herself a glass of water and looking outside for a moment. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

He smiled, following her gaze out the window. "It's gorgeous." They stared for a minute, before he turned back to look at her. "I've never seen you here before. Are you new?"

She bit her lip. "It's my first time." She felt somewhat ashamed, "But not my last," she finished, and he smiled.

"Good." He took a bite of his bread, dipping it in his mashed potatoes. "You remind me of my Samantha," he said, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a ratty, faded photograph of a young girl—she didn't look over seven or eight.

"Oh, she's beautiful. Is that your daughter?" Pam asked, taking the photo in her hand.

"Yes, that's my Samantha… Or at least she used to be. I don't even know who she is anymore." His eyes got darker, and she frowned slightly as he took a bite of his peas.

"What happened?" Pam asked softly, finding herself driven to the old man's story.

He sighed. "She was nine when I left for the war—I was in the army for twenty years—and we were pretty inseparable until that time. I didn't come back for five years." Pam gasped slightly, unable to imagine the long absence. "My letters got lost on the way back. Neither of them got one from me for five years… You can imagine what they must have assumed."

"Oh wow," Pam said, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I came back to find Cheryl had remarried. Samantha had started calling her new husband—his name was Greg—'daddy'. But Cheryl died while I was away," He stopped, wiping his eye as he looked down at the photo.

"We had a hard time figuring out what to do about Samantha. Greg was a nice man, and Samantha loved him, but I was her father." He paused, as if trying to figure out how to phrase the next part. "But I hadn't been in her life for five years… She wasn't comfortable with me anymore. I mean, she was 14. That kind of thing is important when you're 14."

Pam nodded, and he continued, "So, the next four years we tried to get our relationship back, but we messed up so much. We held on to too many bitter feelings. Neither of us were really sure where to step… When she left for college, we lost contact. The last I heard of her was six years ago. She was getting married to some boy she met down at that college of hers."

Pam swallowed. "Wow, that's…. Wow…"

He smiled softly. "It's life… You just got to deal with it."

She nodded. "I see you're not married," he pointed out, and she felt a small pain in her chest, but quickly brushed it off.

"Oh, yeah, no… I was engaged once, but it just didn't work out."

"Didn't work out?" He questioned, a puzzled expression on his face. "You must not have really loved him.

"What does that mean?" Pam asked, defensively.

He shrugged. "If you truly love somebody, you don't let them go. And you don't leave them," he looked up, his eyes sad. She handed him back his picture of Samantha, her heart hurting from the man's eyes.

"I'm not sure if I ever really loved him enough to marry him. I don't even know if he ever really loved me," she said, staring at Jim out of the corner of her eye. "It just wasn't the right relationship."

"Well, if it wasn't right, then don't you dwell on it," he said, leaning in and whispering to her. "There are plenty of relationships—only one of them is right. You've just got to weed through all of the wrong to find that one." She smiled lightly.

"I know, the odds are stacked against me," she laughed.

"You'll find it; just wait for it." He said, clearing off his plate with his last bite of food. "Just don't waste your time when you finally do find it. You never know how much time you have," she nodded, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up, smiling to see Jim standing there.

"Jim, this is my new pal, Hank," she said, and he nodded reaching out his hand to shake Hank's firmly. Hank eyed her for a moment and she smiled, feeling Jim squeeze his shoulder with his left hand.

"Hillary's looking for you," he turned to her. "Something about being out of oranges."

Pam laughed. "Good ole Hank here took the last one," she smiled. "Save my seat." She stood up, and Jim took her place.

"Hey man, how are ya?" he asked Hank, focusing intently on the man in front of him as Pam disappeared from the scene.

"Good, A little upset that you stole the pretty lady away from me," he said, and Jim laughed.

"Well, if you hadn't taken that orange…" he trailed off, and Hank laughed.

"Friend of yours?" Hank asked, nodding in Pam's directions.

"Um, yeah," Jim laughed. "Long story."

"Well, where do you think I'm going?" Hank asked, leaning back in his chair. Jim studied him for a moment, before starting his story.

"Well, it all started three years ago, when I was working at this office job, and we needed a new receptionist… And in walked Pam," he said, smiling, looking over at her, hoisting the box of oranges over her head and flashing a new guest a smile.

* * *

"Wow," Hank said, scratching his head. "That's quite the story." 

Jim laughed, "Yeah, we've had our ups and downs, but I wouldn't trade it for the world."

"You shouldn't," Hank replied, smiling. "It's easy to see you two have a special bond. She lit up when she looked at you."

"Well, that's what all the women do," Jim said, brushing off his shoulder. Hank laughed. "No, it's kind of a fine line with our relationship. I mean, I'm having fun, and I want to help her… I love seeing her this happy. It's just hard."

"What's so hard about being with the girl of your dreams?" Hank asked, and Jim chuckled softly.

"Well, when you put it that way…" Jim laughed, and Hank smiled. "No, it's just that I don't want to pressure her into anything. I think that's why we have the relationship we do… We're never uncomfortable with each other. We don't push the issues."

"If you get too comfortable where you are, things will never change," Hank said, and Jim pursed his lip, mulling over the thought.

"But I can't make her too uncomfortable because then things will never get comfortable," he sighed. Hank rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to get more bread from your girlfriend," he said, standing up, leaving Jim to muddle through the mess that was his life. Jim turned around, watching as Hank made his way over to Pam. She smiled at him, and Jim couldn't help but wonder if she had the biggest heart of anyone he'd ever met.

He slowly eased out of his seat, retaking his position next to her as the line finished and the clock struck 1, signaling time to pick up. "Hi," he smiled at her, stacking the bread rolls on top of each other.

"Have a nice chat with Hank?" she asked smiling, covering the mashed potatoes and peas and stacking the pans on top of each other. "Will you carry this for me? It's too heavy."

"Yes and sure." He said, picking up and carrying it into the back. When they'd finished clearing the food, sweeping the floors, and setting the tables and chairs back where they'd been earlier, it was 2:30.

* * *

Jim drove back to his house, smiling as Pam talked a mile a minute. "Jim, I just really liked it a lot. Sometimes I just forget how good it feels to help other people, you know? I'm not sure how to explain it. And I loved getting to know Hank. I promised him we'd go back there one day, I hope you don't mind." 

"Not at all," Jim replied, smiling. "I enjoyed it." He pulled into his driveway, and Pam got out of the car before he did, racing to the door.

"H is for hurry up!" She said, jumping in place.

"H is for hold your horses! Geez," he replied, unlocking the door. She sprinted inside and down the hall, running into his bathroom and slamming the door behind her.

"Hope everything comes out okay!" he yelled at her, and even though he couldn't see her, he could imagine her flicking him off at that moment. He laughed in spite of himself, going over to his closet and pulling out a huge box. He heard the door close in the bathroom and he grinned to himself as he heard Pam come up behind them.

"What are you doing with a Christmas tree, Jim?" She asked, looking at him skeptically.

"We're going to decorate it." He replied simply.

"We're going to decorate a Christmas tree… in July?" She asked, wondering if she was hearing things.

"Yes, now please go into that closet and pull down the top two boxes. They're full of ornaments, so be careful."

She obeyed as Jim fought with the Christmas tree, trying to get it to stand up. She'd had both boxes down and opened in enough time to look through all the ornaments, squealing. "Make yourself useful and go put on some Christmas music," he said, laughing as she got to the _Baby's First Christmas_ ornament. She grinned and went to the stereo, thumbing through the CDs until she found one.

"What is _Christmas with the Boys_," she asked, flipping over a mix CD.

He bit his cheeks. Oh man, he was going to hear about this one. "It's all of the Christmas songs done by John Mayer, Jason Mraz, Gavin DeGraw, Ben Folds, you know… the boys…"

She stared at him for a moment, laughing. "Well, don't have a fangasm over your boyfriends." She put the CD in the player, the sounds of the boys filling the air, and she couldn't help but giggle when she heard another boy's voice added to the mix. He finally got the tree up and she grinned, pulling out the strands of lights from the box and handing him one end.

He draped them around the Christmas tree, ordering her to stay still and move in varying parts, until the colored lights were perfect. He plugged them in, and she grinned.

"Colored lights? Aren't you sophomoric?"

"I try not to be racist," he replied.

"How noble of you." She said, going into the box and picking out an ornament, a red, glittery piece of construction paper with a picture of six year old Jim in the middle of it. "Aww, look how cute you were!" she gushed.

He rolled his eyes. "I don't need to look; I already know how cute I _am_," he said.

She hung up some more ornaments, before stopping in the middle of the room, staring at the tree. "What?" he asked her.

"Colored? Really?" she said, giving him a slight smile.

"Oh, come on, Beesly!" He said, giving her the _duh _look. "Colored lights are so much better! You're an artist, you should appreciate color!"

She smiled, putting up another ornament, this one a picture of an old woman in a rocking chair. She recognized the woman as a caricature of Jim's grandmother. "I do appreciate color. I'm just teasing you." She smiled at him, and he smiled back.

They'd made it through _Silver Bells_ by Jason Mraz (track 16 out of 26) before the tree was fully decorated. She stood back, admiring the Christmas tree in Jim's living room. He disappeared for a moment while she was staring at it, and she didn't realize it until he came back, placing a mug of hot chocolate in her hands.

"Why are we decorating Christmas trees?" She asked, looking at him. He could see the excitement in his eyes, and he found the breath catching in his throat as he was reminded of how beautiful she looked when she was excited.

"H is for Happy Holiday," he answered, and she smiled.

"Holiday? No menorah?" she said, teasing him as she took a sip of her hot chocolate, getting whipped cream on her nose.

"I don't own one. And besides, you're not Jewish." She nodded in agreement, and they stood there, watching the Christmas tree, drinking hot chocolate in the middle of the summer, neither of them truly aware of how strange it was to be doing so.

* * *

Pam took a bite of her ham and cheese sandwich, smiling over at him as he shoveled potato chips in his mouth. They'd just finished watching _High School Musical 2_ sprawled out near the Christmas tree when her stomach had growled loud enough for the two of them—if not all of Scranton—to hear them. She'd been able to mask the small growls by singing along to the songs, but when all of the hype had calmed for the big kiss between Gabriella and Troy, her stomach had ruined the moment. 

He'd laughed, made some smart aleck remark with 'Beesly' attached to the end of it, and promptly retired to the kitchen to make his famous Ham and Cheese sandwich, leaving her be in the living room with the fire crackling and the sounds of Disney floating into her ears. He'd brought two plates in a few moments later, each with a ham and cheese sandwich, some potato chips, and some grapes. Their glasses were filled with ice water from earlier in the movie, and Pam took a sip out of the straw nervously. She always drank too much when they ate—it was nervous habit and she did it with everyone.

"Is there mustard on this?" she asked, lifting a corner of the bread up to peek.

"Yep. You gotta practice safe eating. Use a condiment." She laughed, rolling her eyes at him and continued to eat, chewing her food into ridiculously small bites. She stopped laughing somewhat abruptly, chewing on her food slowly. He watched her out of the corner of his eye; she seemed deep in thought. She took another sip of her water, and licked her lips.

"Jim, do you want kids?" She asked, looking up at him. "I just realized, I have no idea."

"I haven't really thought about it," he replied, popping a chip into his mouth. He chewed for a moment, thinking, his eyes looking upward as if they could see what was written on his forehead if they tried. "I guess so. Yeah, with the right woman I would."

"Me too," she replied, chewing. He looked at her for a moment, holding a half eaten ham and cheese sandwich in his hand, before she caught what she'd said, "I mean with a man. With the right man I would." She blushed, and he grinned.

They sat for a moment in silence, each of them taking a sip of their drinks and taking bites of their sandwiches. All of a sudden, Jim jumped up, putting his hand out, "Ready?"

"Born ready," she replied, smiling. He stared at her for a moment and she laughed, "For what?"

"Hide and Go Seek," he smiled and she grinned, jumping in place lightly.

"Ooh! I love this game! Can I be the hider?" she asked, already running down the hall to go hide. He rolled his eyes, covering them with his hands.

"Uno! Duo! Three!" he called, laughing to himself. "Four! Five! Sex! Sept! Huit! Neuf! Ten! Ready or not, here I come!" He uncovered his eyes and took off down the hall, looking around him to find her. He opened the bathroom door, peering in all of the usual places—behind the door, in the bathtub before deciding she wasn't there. He kept down the hall, finally turning into his bedroom and he sighed. _Where could she be?_

He noticed the lump on the bed moving, and he rolled his eyes, laughing. He grinned, "I wonder where Pam could be?" he asked loudly, stepping all the way around the bed, listening to her giggles as she tried to stifle them, small, seldom snorts escaping her. He pretended to leave the room for a moment, waiting until her giggles ceased, and then ran over to the bed and jumped on it, tickling her through the covers. She giggled and thrashed around, and he laughed, pulling the covers off her.

She grinned up at him, and he tapped her nose lightly. "You're it." She smiled, getting out of the bed and walking down the hall. "Couch is it!" he called after her, leaving and heading into the bathroom. He quickly climbed into the bathtub, pulling the curtain shut and laid down, grinning. He figured she would probably find him, but he didn't really care. He closed his eyes, enjoying the pitter patter of her feet down the hallway, her soft voice calling him to 'come out come out wherever you are'.

He grinned, wondering how she hadn't found him yet, when he felt something wet on his feet. He opened his eyes, seeing the tub turn on as it filled out with water and he jumped up opening the shower curtain. "I'm gonna kill you!" he said, his eyes wide as she grinned, tapping his nose.

"You're it!" She said, running away from him, and he ran after her, pulling her up in the air and laughing as he hung her upside down. She kicked her feet, slapping his thigh until he finally let her down, all giggles. "You stink," she grinned, laying on the carpeted ground. "You needed a shower."

He rolled his eyes and took his place on the couch, and she grinned, throwing a pillow at him before heading down the hallway, opening the closet door, and hiding down in the open space at the bottom of the closet. She hugged her knees to her chest, biting on a towel to keep from laughing when she heard him yell he was coming. She tensed as he passed down the hall, his shadow getting further away as she counted, expecting him to go into the room When she was sure he'd passed into his bedroom, she opened the door of the closet wide to run to base, when she felt something stopping it from opening further.

"Leaping Lizards!" he yelled, as she ran toward base.

"Who are you, Annie?" she said, twirling around to face him, when she noticed him sitting on the ground, clutching his face in his hands. "Oh my god, Jim, are you okay?"

He looked up at her, pulling his hand away and she could see blood dripping from his nose. She crouched down to his level. "Oh God, I'm so sorry… What can I do?" She got up, headed into the bathroom and quickly grabbed one of his superman hand towels, wetting it with water and handed it to him. He took it, pressed it to his nose and smiled lightly at her.

"God, Jim, I feel so bad," she said, looking up at him, then down at the carpet, then back up at him. Her mind was racing. _Oh God, what have I done? His face is going to be screwed up… They're going to have to amputate his nose. Do they amputate noses? Are we going to have to go to the hospital? I hate the hospital._

She looked down as he pulled the towel from his face, tossing it up on the counter. He had dried blood over his face, and she winced lightly. It made her heart hurt, knowing she'd hurt him the way she had, even if it had been by accident. He reached out and touched her nose, smiling softly, "You're it."

She gave him a stern look. "I… I'm sorry, Jim… I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Hey, it's okay," he said, "We were just playing around. It's fine. I'm fine."

"You were bleeding…" she trailed off. "I'm a horrible person, what was I thinking?"

"Um, _I got to get to base_?" he smiled, and she chuckled lightly. She crossed her legs, leaning against the wall and stared over at him, her eyes sad as she took in the image in front of her. She could hardly believe she'd hurt him the way she had.

"Hey, have I told you how great you are?" He asked, and she looked up at him, a confused expression on her face. He smiled, and she blushed immediately.

"Tell me again?" she asked, and she knew there was a quiver in her voice. She scooted closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder and sniffling lightly.

* * *

Review please! Review ransom! You guys did good this time, 32!

Also: I DEFINITELY wont be posting until at least the 26th, most likely after. You decide when. Christmas is a big deal at muy casa, so... Yep. 


	10. I is for Incomplete

Well, I hope you all had a merry Christmas. We did. I now own John Krasinski and Jenna Fischer in three DVD sets. I'm telling you, people, it's worth it for the extras. These guys are hillarious.

Special thanks to Elly for beta'ing and for being the voice of ridiculousness.

I will mention this again later, but GO SEE WALK HARD! It is phenomenal. I am a straight-edge, and I have never laughed so much in my entire life. Seriously. LOVE IT! Jenna is phenomenal, but the movie itself, just WOW.

Your reviews, my dahlings:

Eagle- Excellent! Fantastic! Grateful!  
Literati- Thanks! Merry Christmas!  
Small Tuna- I love that line too. It sums up their relationship so well  
Katy- Thanks! Hopscotch, eh, not as JAM. :)  
Allison- Thanks so so so much!  
Christine- Hmm... You may just be thinking wishfully. Or you may be right. We shall see. Heh, I'm afraid I wasn't as clever with I, as you somewhat guessed it.  
KT- Yeah, not exactly. But we're getting there. And you know me, I wouldn't leave you with nothing by Date Z.  
Henantz- It was sad, I agree. Hank is an amazing guy. It takes time, my friend, to heal a broken heart.  
Maddi- Sorry, I love me some HSM. I'm glad you like my original characters. I try to keep them well-rounded and multi-layered.  
Country- Thank you! I really appreciate your comment--that's the best comment you can give me. I'm always trying to make sure they're IC.  
Mrs.Big- I'm so glad you enjoyed it! And hide and seek is the bomb.  
Kerber- Thanks!  
Ash- There is... It's a mix CD at my house, LOL.  
Dancer- Yeah, she's amazing. She's so vulnerable, I love it.  
Yabberli- I'm not sure. We used to do it at camp. We'd have santa and everything, it was really great!  
Dejah- Wow! Thanks!  
Brooke- Gavin. MMM.  
Benjamin- Thanks! I think it's more realistic this way. I'm glad you agree!  
Alison- I'm so glad you loved it! Perfecter? LOL. I hope you love this one too!  
Meg- It sure is! MC to you too!  
Dean- Thanks! Here's the next!  
Anonymus- Thanks! Here it is.  
Amanda- Thanks so much! Jim is a funny counter. And so you know, I'd already written this chapter when you reviewed, othewise, honestly, I might have changed my idea!  
Iloveoffice- It will be at some point, probably... But she needs time to heal, and he needs to give her that time. And they're more together now than they should be, just without the title. Be patient, and stay tuned!  
Elly- Shush. I'm too busy flirting to respond to this meaningfully. Dwight, what kind of coffee do you drink?

* * *

Pam opened the door of her Yaris and climbed out, looking into Jim's dark windows. _Of course they're dark, silly. It's barely 7 AM. _She smiled for a minute, before reaching in her pocket to pull out her phone. She quickly dialed the number to his cell and waited patiently as his ring back tone _When I Laugh, _by The Glandsplayed in her ear. She moved to the music, dorkily, as she waited for him to pick up, and began singing along slightly when suddenly, she heard him on the other end, just as she finished singing the last line.

"Beautiful," he said, laughing at her. She blushed as a natural reflex, as he continued. "You could easily have a career as Donna Ross or something."

She smiled as she saw the lights flicker on outside, "Yeah, well, that's what I was going for. That or Britney Spears."

"Hmm," she could hear him hopping around upstairs as he paused. "Sing like Donna; dress like Britney."

She laughed, "Yeah, that sounds great." She pushed the doorbell, and she could hear the ringing even outside the house. She smiled lightly, when she heard his voice on the other end.

"Oh, hey, will you hold on?" He asked, and she could hear the patter of his feet as he hurried down the stairs. "Somebody's at my door."

"I'm not more important than the person at your door?" She asked, teasing. She heard his footsteps stop for a moment.

"Well, of course you are…" he said, and she smiled to herself lightly. "I'll just let it be," he finished, and she could hear his footsteps retreating.

"No, no!" She insisted, "it's okay, answer your door. Maybe they delivered my porno tapes to you instead." He laughed, and she could hear his footsteps increase, and the next thing he said, she could hear through the door, and not through the telephone.

"Well, we couldn't have that. Hold on. God, who visits at 7 AM?" She laughed lightly, waiting as he unlocked the deadbolt and the door, and she heard his voice before she saw his face. "I'm sorry, I'm in the middle of a really important conversation with my—" he stopped when he saw her there, and he smiled. She smiled back at him, and he stared for a moment before pulling the phone back up to his ear, "So, I've got this girl at my door… Think I should let her in?"

"Is she pretty?"

"A knockout," he replied, and she smiled.

"How'd you manage to get a knockout at your door?" She teased. He shrugged, and she continued, "Must be those devilishly good looks and the Halpert charms?" He stepped to the side of the door, smiling as she walked in.

"Well, it is the third one today, so you can't be too far off." She laughed, hanging up the phone and tossing it on his counter, before looking up at him and grinning.

"As long as I'm the prettiest," she replied, and he laughed.

"You're the only knockout. The other two were like a crossbreed of Dwight, Kevin, and a mongoose." She snorted, giggles rising up in her throat as his eyes went wide at her sudden outburst. He hung up his phone and tossed it on the table next to hers, playing with the drawstring on his pajama bottoms and scratching his head idly, his hair sticking up.

"Breakfast?" he asked, and she smiled, nodding lightly.

"Why don't I make us something to eat while you get dressed?" She asked, and he grinned, heading upstairs and pointing her to the kitchen. She laughed and nodded, heading into the kitchen and pulling out pancake batter, eggs, milk and oil.

She was busy pouring the batter into the skillet when he came to the foot of the stairs, watching her. She shook her head to get the stray piece of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes out of her face, and he walked toward her, smiling at how gorgeous she looked, just standing in his kitchen making pancakes. "Hi," he said, opening the fridge and looking for the milk that was sitting on the counter.

"Hi," she replied, putting the bowl in the sink and rinsing it out. "What are you looking for?"

"Milk, have you seen it?"

She grabbed a brush and started scrubbing out the bowl, "It's on the counter." He laughed, closed the door, and poured two glasses of milk, setting one in each place setting along with the silverware.

"So, what brings you here so _early_ in the morning?" he asked, smiling as she flipped the pancakes.

She turned around, leaning on the counter and smiled at him, "It's no fair you get to plan all of our dates," she replied, and he raised his eyebrows, smiling. "So," she continued, "I came prepared for part of our date this morning." She turned back to the skillet and flipped the last pancake onto a plate, turned off the stove, and brought the plate of pancakes to the table, sitting down next to him.

"Oh, well, what are we doing?"

She looked at him for a moment, before tears began to roll down her cheeks. "Jim, my iguana…" The tears were rolling freely, and he was sitting there, watching her, his mouth open with a piece of pancake on it, but he wasn't chewing, just staring at her. His fork was held in midair, syrup dripping from it, but he was watching her. "Imogene… She was… She was kidnapped, Jim," Pam brought her hand to her face, covering her eyes as she made loud noises that sounded like sobbing.

"When did you get an iguana named Imogene?" he asked, chewing the pancake now.

"I've had her all my life," Pam continued, wiping her tears. "I… I think she was murdered."

Jim's face fell, "I'm sorry, Pam…"

She watched him for a moment, taking in the genuine sorrow he felt for her. She smiled, wiped the tearstains off her face, and shrugged, "Good, it's believable then."

She took a bite of pancake. "Believable? What are you talking about?" He asked, leaning in.

"We," she said, emphasizing the two of them, and he laughed. "are going to report her missing." She reached into her bag, pulling out a red folder full of various contents and placed it on the table. His eyes widened, "We're going to call a volunteer sheriff's deputy," she winked at him, "tell him all about Imogene, and have him come investigate the kidnap and alleged murder."

"Oh my god, Beesly, this is fantastic!" He said, chewing more vigorously.

She smiled, pleased with herself. She pushed her pancakes to the side, scooting her chair next to his. He pushed his pancakes away also, grabbing the folder and putting it in front of him. She leaned against him, pointing at the various documents.

"This," she started, pointing at a document printed on a light gold colored parchment paper she'd obviously stolen from Dwight's secret stash, "is Imogene's birth certificate." He looked at it, then back at her, eyes wide. "She was born on January 20, 1972."

She looked up at Jim, and his eyes went wide. "That's Dwight's birthday."

"I know," she replied, grinning. "2 ounces, 4 inches long at birth, she was a real beauty." Jim smiled, patting Pam's hand.

"I'm so sorry, I know this is tough for you."

She nodded, pulling out pictures of iguanas she'd obviously gotten from the internet. He laughed, "are these even the same iguana?"

"Nope." She replied, grinning. He laughed. "I have a few leads," she pulled out three Ziploc bags. "I found a glove," she handed him the first.

"Oh, that's obviously not your handling gloves… That's a man's glove," he smiled.

"It's Roy's," she raised her eyebrows, grinning. He laughed. She pulled out the snack-sized Ziploc bag, "And here are four hairs."

"Those are short hairs," Jim said, studying them. "Obviously a male…"

"But then," she said, reaching into her bag, "there are these knitting needles… That I saw Phylllis with at work yesterday."

"Oh my…"

"And this…" She said, pulling out Dwight's throwing star. His eyes went wide, and she watched him, a slight smile on her face.

"Wow, Dwight…" He stuttered lightly, "How did you… What did you… Oh God, Pam, this is genius."

"They're used to incapacitate your enemy," she said, sniffling lightly, "me, if I walked into the room."

"Oh, wow… Intent." Jim said, shaking his head lightly.

"And the final clue," Pam said, pulling out the last Ziploc bag, "A picture I took of the cage turned over on its' side."

Jim took the picture in his hand, studying it closely. "Nice bra. Pink's a great color." She nudged him, laughing as she leaned into him to study the picture. "What else is in there?" He asked, and she reached over to the folder and pulled out all of Imogene's papers.

"Dental and Doctors records… Pictures from her birthday parties, you know, the works." He smiled, picking up the records and Ziploc bags and putting them back in the bag she'd brought. She looked up at him quizzically, before standing up, putting their plates in the dishwasher, and heading out the door.

She unlocked her car, and he climbed in, scooting the seat back for his long legs. "Geez, what three year old are you driving around in here?" He asked, laughing.

She smiled. "I just keep it at the manufacturers settings. Nobody's ridden in that seat yet. I just bought the car a few weeks ago."

"So I'm popping the front seat's cherry," he said, and she stared at him wide eyed before backing out of the space. "Good to know."

She rolled her eyes, laughing as she drove down the street. Jim stroked the leather seats, introducing himself to the front seat. She'd hear snippets of _their _conversation. "Well, Kathy, it's nice to meet you, I'm Jim…Oh yes, I love long walks on the beach… The stars aren't as pretty as the ones in your belt buckle…" She ignored most of them, until she heard the clincher, "You sure do ride smooth."

Her eyes went wide as she blurted out, "That's what she said!" He laughed, and she joined in as she parked the car, carrying Imogene's records up to her apartment.

"Alright, Beesly," he said, as she opened the door. "Let's plant this crime scene." She laughed, turning on the lights and leading him to her bedroom.

"The bed's not made," she said, excusing her mess. "And there's stuff on the floor and…" He rolled his eyes, and she smiled lightly, opening the door. He followed her inside, glancing around the room, noticing that it was nowhere near as messy as any room in his apartment. Her bed wasn't made, but who made his bed in the morning anyway? Her pajamas were on the floor, but that was it, other than the pink bra hanging off her bookshelf that he'd seen in the picture.

She hurried to the middle of the floor, picking up the pajamas and the bra off the bookshelf, tossing them into her empty laundry bin. He smiled, "Your room is nice." She nodded, thanking him, while he continued to look around. Her room was a soft yellow; her bedspread was white, and it looked like it had some sort of pink flowery pattern at the bottom, but the rest of it was straight white. There were pictures on random walls, a calendar on the one by her bed. He headed toward the calendar, noticing that each Saturday had a letter of the alphabet on it. He noticed a red "Aunt Flo is coming!" on the lower corner of next Friday and made a mental note to plan something that wouldn't make that time more unbearable than it probably already was.

"Okay," she said, and he turned toward her, smiling. She was looking at him skeptically, "There's not much on that, Inspector Gadget," he laughed, looking around. "You left the cage turned over, good job."

"I try," she replied, handing him the two Ziploc bags as she placed the throwing star near her bed, the knitting needles on the other end. He scattered the clump of hair right by the iguana cage, Roy's glove hanging off the edge of the bookshelf. She grinned as she watched him, and he laughed, walking over to her bed and sitting on the side of it.

He picked up a ratty, stuffed animal and looked at her. She blushed, laughing "sometimes I get lonely…" He pouted lightly, and she continued, "It's from when I was a baby. Her name is Ella."

"Ella the Elephant," he smiled, chuckling lightly as she picked up the phone. He watched her, and then shook the thought out of his head, "I'm sorry, you need me to be supportive and caring right now," he tossed Ella back to the corner of the bed. "Go ahead, let's make the call."

She nodded and sat on the bed next to him, and he touched her hand, giving her his sympathetic look as she dialed Dwight's number. He picked up on the first ring, but she didn't even wait until he said anything before she started the waterworks.

"Dwight! Thank God, it's Pam! Imogene, she's missing… I…" she let her lip quiver. "I need your help!"

"Who's Imogene?" he asked, gravely concerned.

"My iguana. She was in her cage last night, and I woke up this morning and she was gone," Pam was letting the tears fall freely now, and she felt a pat on her leg from Jim. She pressed the speaker phone button, letting him voice trail in to fill the room.

"Okay, as a volunteer sheriff's deputy," Jim gave her a look, grinning. "I suggest you do not move any of the evidence."

Pam nodded, "I haven't Dwight… But what should I do? I mean, I'm freaking out here," she was talking a mile a minute, "I mean, they kidnapped her… She could be dead, or in the woods or raped or something."

Dwight cut her off, "One, iguanas cannot be raped. Two, did your iguana show any signs of depression lately? Bear with me, Pam, I'm trying to get a profile of Imogene."

Pam looked at Jim, her face distorted in confusion. "She's… I don't know… She hasn't been eating as much lately. She sulked in the corner lately, but… she wasn't depressed," Pam pretended to be in denial.

"Not eating lately? Sulking? Oh God, this is bad. I'll be right over!" The line clicked and she smiled, laughing into her hand. She was still laughing when she heard a body pounding against the door, and her eyes went wide.

"Maybe it's the kidnapper," she whispered, and Jim looked up. Hearing Dwight's footsteps outside, he wrapped his arms around Pam, pulling her into a hug. She sobbed into his chest as Dwight came within earshot.

"Pam! Open up! I brought my nunchucks and my throwing stars! This investigation has to commence!" His voice was loud and Jim got up, patting Pam's head.

"I'll get it," he said, and she crawled into a ball on her bed, grabbing her pillow as he made it to the door.

"I have some questions for you," Dwight's voice rang out as Jim opened the door, pulling Dwight into a tight hug.

"Thank you, so much… We had no idea what to do, Dwight."

"Ugh, Jim. Quit being such a girl. There is an iguana missing and the first 48 hours are crucial." Jim quickly let go, pretending to wipe his tears on the back of his arm as Dwight bulldozed through the door. "Wait, why are you here?"

Jim looked at him, a blank expression, before Dwight continued. "Damnit, Jim. Is this a joke? You could go to jail for filing a false police report."

Jim shook his head lightly, leading the way to Pam's bedroom. "Question: Did she move any of the evidence?"

He opened the door to Pam's room, hearing her false sobs all the way through the door. "Fact: No." Dwight pushed his way into the room, and Jim went over to the bed, rubbing Pam's back.

"Pam, honey, you need to talk to Deputy Schrute now, okay? He has some questions for you." She nodded, wiping her tears as she sat up, leaning against him slightly.

"Yes, Pam. Listen to Jim," Jim's eyes went wide and Dwight looked away in disgust "Ugh, I never thought I'd say that. Question: What kind of friends did," he looked at his notepad, "Imogene have?"

Pam didn't miss a beat, just wiped her eyes with a Kleenex. "Well, me and Jim of course," Jim squeezed her hand lightly, and she could feel her heart glisten with happiness even amidst the sorrow. "And she had a play date every Tuesday with the other iguanas on the block."

Dwight nodded, looking over to Jim and snapped, "Jim, did you kidnap Pam's iguana so you could get close to Pam? Remember, I do not mind playing bad cop/good cop with you!"

Jim looked at Dwight, disappointment and hurt all over his face. "Dwight, I love Imogene. Just as much as Pam does… I would never, ever harm her."

Dwight walked around the room, looking at the cage. "What kind of cage is this?"

"The Iguana 5100," Pam replied automatically.

"Mose has the Iguana 6500," Dwight replied, scrouching down to study it.

"I was going to get her that for Christmas," Jim said, softly.

"Maybe that's why she left. She wanted a new home." Pam shrieked, burying her face in Jim's shoulder, her sobs getting louder.

"But the cage is turned over," Jim replied. "She couldn't have gotten out by herself…" He patted Pam's hair, whispering loud enough for Dwight to hear. "She didn't want a new home."

"How old was Imogene?" Dwight asked, and Pam sat up, wiping her eyes again.

"She was born on January 20, 1972 in San Antonio, Texas."

"False. There is no way an iguana could be 35 years old. Most iguanas only live 13-20 years."

"I know…" Pam trailed off. "The doctor said those born on January 20th have special genes."

"Much like the Schrutes. Tell me, did she ever marry or have offspring?" Dwight asked.

"No…" Pam trailed off. "She wasn't interested in the male lizards…"

"In all my research of the iguana species, I've never seen a lesbian iguana. Strange." Dwight pondered, his finger against his lips. He looked around the cage, for the first time noticing the glove on the shelf. He squinted, reading it. "Roy Anderson."

Pam gasped. "Oh my god…"

"Where's Roy?"

Pam bit her lip, looking down at her bedspread. "I don't know… On vacation, I think."

"Did he like Imogene?"

"No," Pam said softly, biting her lip in an effort to keep the tears from falling. Dwight nodded, looking around.

"Dwight, do you see any other clues to Imogene's disappearance?" Jim asked, and Dwight looked around, headed for the corner where Phyllis' needles rested.

"I found some knitting needles," he said, bending down and looking at Pam. "Do you knit, Pam?"

"No…" she replied. "I don't."

"Does Roy?" She shook her head no, slightly, and he continued, "Then the only person these could belong to is Phyllis L. Vance. Have you made her mad lately?"

Pam looked up at Jim, a worried expression. "Um… I did accidentally hang up on Bob Vance."

"Of Vance Refrigeration?" Pam nodded. Dwight looked around the room once more, noticing something black hanging out of a half open dresser drawer.

"Pam, what are you doing with black lingerie?" he asked, as Jim's head shot up to look, Dwight pulled out a pair of forceps and picked up the black, cotton bikini-style underwear that comes rolled in a five pack at Target. She shook her head slightly, and he continued, "You don't buy black underwear unless you want somebody to see it."

Jim's eyes went back and forth from the underwear, to Pam, to the underwear again.

"Or at least that's what Larissa Oleynik says," Dwight continued. Pam quickly jumped off the bed, grabbing the panties from Dwight and throwing them in her laundry basket, shutting the dresser drawer all the way. She glared at Dwight as Jim looked down at the floor.

Dwight collected his stuff. "Before I go, can I have a picture of Imogene so I can make posters and post them all over town?" Pam nodded, pulling a picture of Imogene out of her purse.

"Where are you going?" Jim asked, as Pam handed the picture from Imogene's birthday party to him.

"I'm going to go to the Vance's residence and ask them for their alibis. If you think of anything, Pam," he looked at her, his face showing concern, "Anything _at all_, please don't be afraid to call my cell phone, sex predator-missing iguana hotline."

Pam nodded. "Thank you so much, Dwight."

He stared at her. "No need to thank me. I am a mere defender of the people." And with that, he turned and exited the apartment, hurrying down the stairs. They got up off the bed, racing to her bedroom window as they stared out, watching Dwight get in his Trans Am and quickly vacate the premises.

Pam started laughing first, her giggles high, and he joined in, doubling over. "The doctors said those born on January 20th have special genes?" He asked, laughing hysterically. She smiled, raising her hand for a high-five and he obliged, before straightening up.

"So," she said, going over to her closet. "Where are we going for the rest of our date?"

He smiled, "You'll recognize it when we get there. Are you ready? You'll need socks."

She nodded, pulling open a drawer on her dresser, and he noticed that the picture of the two of them in Sombreros was resting on top of it in a silver frame. She had a goofy expression on her face, and for the first time, he noticed how lovingly he was looking at her. It gave him chills to think she might have noticed it as well.

"Ready?" she interrupted his thoughts, heading outside with her socks in her hand. He nodded and followed her as she walked to the driver's door, opening it. He appeared by her side.

"Out," he said, and she pouted.

"Can't you just tell me where we're going?"

"No."

"It's my car," she said, putting on her fake angry face.

"Out," he repeated, putting his hand out. She sighed, placed her keys in them, and got out and walked over to the passenger's seat, climbing in. He smiled. "You better not hurt the Yaris." He laughed and she fiddled with the radio as he drove to Scranton's only ice rink.

She laughed as they pulled into the car. "Oh, recreating memories! Are we going to go to the store and buy 69 Cups of Noodles, too?"

He laughed. "Nope. We're just going to skate." She smiled, climbing out of the car, accidentally hitting the car next to her. Her head whipped around and she looked at Jim, who had a scolding look on his face. She sucked on her lips lightly, closing the door quickly and hurrying to the sidewalk. He met her there, laughing silently as they walked inside. He ordered their skates, and they headed over to the bench to put them on.

"I haven't been practicing," she said, and he smiled lightly. _I wouldn't have expected you to._

"That's okay, neither have I," he said, and she laughed. He stood up, offering his hand to her. "Ready, Beesly?"

She nodded, standing up and reaching for his hand, but she fell into him lightly. He laughed and caught her. "Sorry." She mumbled.

He laughed. "That's alright. I knew I had my work cut out for me." They slowly stepped down on the ice, Pam squealing and clutching his arm or dear life. He smiled.

"Okay, here's what you need to do," he said softly, patting her hand. "One step in front of the other. It's just like you're walking."

"Except I'm on ice." She replied, clutching his arm tighter.

"Okay," he said, holding her hand and clutching her arm just as she did his. "Right foot… Left foot… Right foot… Left foot…" She followed his lead, getting into the stride. "You're doing really great!" he said, and she smiled, releasing his hand and letting their arms fall to the side.

He looked down, slightly disappointed, until he felt her hand against his, tapping him lightly. He opened his palm, and she wrapped her hand around his. The smile returned to his face as they skated along, music playing overhead. People were zipping in and out around them, and Pam's face was never really relaxed.

A man dressed in a hockey uniform zipped in front of them then and Pam shrieked, moving closer to Jim. He smiled, touching her shoulder lightly, "Hey, it's okay… He didn't hurt you."

"He almost did," she pouted, and he laughed lightly. The music turned softer above them and the lights dimmed as the announcer's voice came over the intercom system.

"Attention Skaters! It's time for the couples skate. Those of you who are a couple, get out on the ice. Those of you who aren't, find someone to be in a couple with you or get off the ice and let the lovebirds glide."

The announcer's voice ceased, and Jim looked down at Pam. She looked up at him, expectedly. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied, and she kept skating, squeezing his hand whenever she slipped lightly. A Celine Dion song was playing in the background as they skated and all of a sudden, Pam felt a tug on her hand as she saw Jim go crashing down to the ice. Her feet gave way from under her and she was spiraling toward the ice, head first. She felt Jim's hand pull her into him as she fell, and she landed on his stomach. He winced in pain and she bit her lip.

"Sorry," he muttered, "are you okay?"

"You cushioned my fall," she said, scrunching her forehead. "Are you okay? God, you landed on ice… And then I landed on you."

"You're very observant," he said, grinning, and she laughed.

"You need to um, get up first."

"Why?"

"I need help," she said, blushing lightly. He laughed, standing up, and she reached her hand up. He raised his eyebrows at her, giving her a look that said 'what?' She grinned, tilting her head to the side, putting on a face of mock anger. He reached his hand down, helping her up. She smiled up at him, and he winked, evoking one of the smiles that almost made him fall down again, just like the first one had.

* * *

"Are you ready, miss?" the fifteen-year old cashier said. Jim couldn't help but chuckle at his pink ensemble, and the ice cream cone hat on his head.

"Not yet," she replied, and he rolled his eyes, smiling as he watched her. He'd never known somebody to be so excited about ice cream before. "Jim, what should I get?" she asked, and he walked over to her, seeing her leaning against the glass, looking at flavors like "Spongebob's Strawberry Swirl" and "Bubblegumania."

"What are you deciding between?" he asked, leaning against the frame just as she did. She smiled, looking at them all, and put her hand on the glass.

"Um, all of them," she replied, and he chuckled. He stuffed his hands in his pocket and looked up at the cashier.

"I guess we'll have to take a scoop of each then."

"No, no. I decided!" Pam said, laughing.

"Okay, what do you want?" Jim asked, smiling. She leaned against the glass pane again.

"Um…" she trailed off, "I'm still deciding." He smiled, touching her back. "I can't decide," she said, turning to him, and he pulled his hand away quickly. "Do I want Banana Chocolate Bonanza, or do I want Bubblegumania?"

He smiled. "You want Banana Chocolate Bonanza."

"One scoop of Banana Chocolate Bonanza," she said to the young boy without even mulling over her options again, and he smiled. The boy quickly scooped up her ice cream, as Jim watched Pam eye the Very Berry Strawberry ice cream. She looked up at him and whispered, "I've always only picked Strawberry. I like to play it safe."

He nodded, and she took her ice cream from the cashier and walked over to a table while he ordered his and paid for it. She sat there, watching the flowers in the vase, as she took a bite of her ice cream. A few minutes later, he sat down across from her, pushing a cup toward her. She looked inside of it and smiled.

"Very Berry Strawberry?" She asked, looking up and noticing that there were three cups on the table. "Wait, what did you get?"

He winked at her, "Bubblegumania. Want some?" She smiled, digging her spoon in his and taking a bite, smiling lightly.

She pushed the empty cup of Banana away from herself, grabbing the strawberry one and silently taking a bite of her ice cream. She was watching him with an intensity he'd never seen before. "What's on your mind?" he asked, and she looked at him the way she did when she wasn't quite sure if she should say something or not. "Come on, spill it, Beesly."

She smiled lightly. "I was thinking about our lunch date."

"The first one?" he asked. "Which one?"

"The first one," she nodded, looking down at the table.

He studied her for a moment, holding the silence until she looked up again, before he asked, "What about it?"

"Do you still not want to get married?" she blurted out, embarrassed by how anxious she was to hear his answer.

He choked on the air he was breathing, "Um, what?"

"On our lunch date… You said you never wanted to get married. Do you still not want to get married?" She asked.

He sighed. "Pam…" She looked up at him, confused. "I…"

He trailed off. "You what?" she asked. "I need to know, Jim."

"You want me to be completely honest?" He asked, and she nodded. "When I asked you to lunch that day, it was because I had a thing for you." Her eyes widened. "Oh, don't give me that."

"Give you what?" she asked.

"That look that tells me you think there's no reason in the world any man should have a crush on you. Any guy would be lucky to have you," he said, and she blushed, nodding lightly. "So, anyway, I asked you to lunch more because I wanted there to be something between us... Not necessarily because I wanted to be your friend."

Her head dropped a bit, her heart a bit heavier than normal. _So this whole time, all he wanted was sex? God, all men are the same. _"Well, too bad because I think I might try girls for awhile… Angela thinks I can cross over. We'll see." She said, looking down at the tile, tears threatening to sting her eyes.

"Pam," he said softly, and she looked up, her eyes glassy with pain. "Can I just finish telling you this?"

She nodded, looking back down at her ice cream as he continued. "When we were at lunch, I felt a real connection with you." She scoffed. "I don't mean a sexual or romantic connection, though I felt that too. I mean, on the basic human level… A friendship. I don't know, Pam…. Talking to you was like being whole in this really strange, weird way. Like finding the parts of you that are missing in another person."

She looked up, unable to believe what he was saying as he said it, her heart racing. "And I really wanted to be with you, and then you told me you were engaged, and I don't know, Pam, it just really hurt me." She looked up at him, a confused look on her face. She'd never have imagined that would have hurt him.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, looking down again. "I had no idea."

He nodded softly, and she looked back up at him and continued. "I was so hurt that when you asked me, I didn't really know what to say… So I just said no. Tried to be as adamant and unflinching about it as I could… Maybe to hurt you? I don't know why, really." She chewed on her tongue lightly. "I guess it wasn't really the truth."

She felt her breaths going in and out steadily, and she paused before asking timidly. "What is the truth?"

"The truth is," he said, looking at her. "I don't want to be married unless I find the right woman… I think if the right woman came along, I'd marry her in a flash."

She looked up and smiled, playing with her hands.

"What about you?" he asked, and she looked up, confused. "If they ever legalize it, do you think you'll ever get married?"

She smiled, "Hardy har har." He laughed. "Yeah, I mean, it would have to be a pretty remarkable guy… The pain… It's a bit much."

He nodded, and they sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke up. "How's the healing going?"

"It's getting there," she replied softly. "Slowly but surely."

He nodded. "You know, I heard something interesting the other day, and it kind of reminds me of you."

"What was it?" she smiled.

"Well, it was on one of those radio sermons. Angela had it on when I was back in the corner with her because Michael took my seat." Pam nodded. "Anyway, he was talking about vases. And how perfect they are when you buy them. And he was talking about how he put a candle inside of one on a rainy day and lit it, and he could see these little flashes of light shining though, but not too much. There was just a bit of a glow inside the candle, was all."

Pam nodded, studying Jim's face. He seemed to be really into the story he was telling, and it peaked her interest somewhat. "Well, he said that a few days later, after he'd taken the candle out, his daughter ran into the table and knocked it to the floor, breaking it into pieces." Pam's eyes went wide, wondering where the story was going. "He took super glue and glued it back together, but you know, there were still cracks in it."

She nodded, biting her lip lightly. "But, he said he put a candle down there and lit it again, and this time, the light from inside the vase was almost blinding because it started to really shine through the cracks." He looked up at her, and she caught his eye before he continued, staring into her eyes. "You remind me of that vase. You're broken, but you'll only shine brighter because of it."

She smiled, wiping her eyes with her arm, and he handed her a napkin. She dabbed at her eyes, smiling lightly. "Thank you," she said, staring at the corner of the table, her mind trying to process all of the information. "What if it takes a long time to glue me back together?"

He shrugged. "Then it takes a long time to glue you back together." She nodded, and he reached out, grabbing her hand and running his thumb across her palm until she looked back up at him. "But, we're still going to get you glued back together." She smiled and bit her lip, nodding lightly.

"And then I'll shine?" She asked timidly, almost like a little girl who'd fallen and scraped her knees while riding a bike and was afraid to go riding again. Somehow, her father had almost convinced her she'd be okay, but she still had that one, lingering question.

"And then you'll shine." He patted her hand. She nodded, and the lingering question was gone.

* * *

A) Review, Review, Review! Ransom notice. I need reviews.  
B) Go see Walk Hard.  
C) What do you want to see? 


	11. J is for Julia

Well, this chapter's a different format. But I think you'll enjoy it. Please be specific in reviews.

Props to Elly for beta'ing and being the voice of ridiculousness. Anyone (besides her) that can tell me who the "voice of ridiculousness" is wins at life.

Responses:

Voiceofridiculousness- Why do I even respond to you anymore? ;) I do know how upset you are, silly. And I'm glad you loved the chapter. And my voice of ridiculousness is amazing, so thanks.  
Ash- Hehe. Thanks so much!! And I love my CD too!  
Madi- Thanks!! I love the vase too. It's a cool story how I came up with it. If I remember, I'll write it out down here.  
Alison- Thanks so much!! And that made perfect sense. :)  
Henantz- Thanks so much!  
Ashley- Well, I thought about that, but alas, I did not... Sorry. Hope you like J is for... though.  
Kerber- I'll try and remember to put more about the vase at the end. And I love Jim!  
Katy-Thanks so much girl! How's 8 comin?  
Dancer- a) Thanks, Me too. I hope that made it a bit more realistic, why she's scared? or made sense at least. b) do it. it's worth it. c) here's your small moments galore.  
Dean- Wow. Feel special. I never use the suggestions (as far as the name of the game goes) from reviews because I like to surprise, but yours was too good!! So, here you go!  
KT- Look below for the vase explanation, it's really cute. :) and Roy will make an appearance.  
Literati- I is for... God, what is I for?  
Small Tuna- Yes, Yes... And the vase, look for the rest of the story, haha. And Ella.. Mm great name! my cousin's name!  
Maddi- Thanks so much!! I saw Juno yesterday--fantastic!! It's mentioned in this chapter (but you wont catch it if you havent seen it). DOABH will be later.. dont know when, haha.  
Kathryn- Thanks so much for reviewing! I love new readers! And, read below for the Vase story.  
Browndoggy- Well, this one did :) And thanks so much. I love the shine part too... the vulnerability. Oh pam. (thats what he said)  
Yabberli- Heh, im sorry to have killed you, but so glad you liked it. nad dvd sets are fantastic. And thanks for your comment about my JAM. Did you read 20 questions? I cant remember if you read that or Shattered, but you should read whichever one you havent. :)  
Jgrrl- Aww, thanks!  
Christine- Hehe their touching. You girl, are obsessed with the physicals! Which is present in this chapter, so be happy. :)  
Ruli- yay on the iguanas. couple skaters. and yeah, JAM marrige. mmmm. Vase, explanation, below.  
Rach- Oh im glad you liked it!! More on vase below.  
Meg- Oh thanks! More on the vase below.  
Eagle- thanks so much!!  
Janey- Wow, thanks for the long review! And you are right on target, and you will see more of Roy in later chapters, I promise. I don't plan my fics out... at all, really... but i do have Roy in my head, so keep reading!  
Rabidfrodo- Well, if Jam is drug, then count me in!

Now, a lot of you inquired about the vase story... Here's the explanation:

My father is a preist. When I was four years old, I was running through the house playing soccer with my brother (against the rules, obviously), and we ran into a vase that my dad had got my mom for their first wedding anniversary. It came toppling to the ground, shattered in five peices, and cut me. My mom was really upset about the vase (and me, but mostly the vase ;) ) and dad took the peices and didn't get rid of them, knowing how much it meant to her. He glued them back together, and gave it to her for mothers day that year. He took it with him to a camp every year, and whenever he gave sermons about God's love shining through our brokenness, he put a flashlight in the vase (he'd gotten another one that was whole). and so the illustration has been used constantly, and that's the story of the vase. And so, we shine.

* * *

Pam tossed and turned in bed, the sheets getting wrapped up around her in such a way that if she wasn't awake, they might have suffocated her. She groaned, kicking at them until finally she felt them loosen up and she started to emerge from the tight hold they had on her. She kept kicking until finally, she was free, and the nervous feeling in her chest lightened slightly. She stared up at the ceiling, silently pissed that she couldn't seem to fall asleep. It was 3 AM on a Sunday morning, and she'd been trying to fall asleep for the past four hours. Nothing seemed to be working.

She sighed, flipping on the light on her nightstand, surprised with the little nightlight seemed to fill the entire room. She groaned at the light, more out of habit than anything else. She could feel her eyelids closing in on her. _Sure, now that the light is on, you're ready to sleep. Isn't that just my luck? _She kicked her feet over the bed and walked into the kitchen, pulling the gallon of milk out of the fridge and staring at it for a moment. _I shouldn't drink it straight out of the carton… but who else is here to share my germs? _She lifted it to her mouth and chugged for a few seconds, before setting it back inside the refrigerator door and crawling in bed, shutting off the light, willing herself to go to sleep.

She knew why she couldn't go to sleep. She was too busy replaying the events of their day in her brain. It wasn't that their day was extremely extraordinary. It wasn't even one of Jim's better dates (she still really liked the Gavin DeGraw concert). It was just fun, in it's own way. The way he had told her what they were doing; the way he had set it up. It was just so characteristically Jim she couldn't help but be Pam… Lately, she'd been feeling like she was only truly herself, only truly in her element, when he was in his. When they were together, just being them. That's what she loved about their relationship. There was no reason for her to hide who she was. She could talk freely, about anything, and be assured that everything was _safe_. Safety. Security. All of the things she wanted, but never had.

Being with Jim wasn't a chore anymore. Not that it was ever really a chore, but there were a few dates where she woke up Saturday morning, upset to find that Saturday had come and she _had_ to get up to go meet him. It wasn't that it wasn't fun with him, it was more that she had to give up valuable art time, or lounge time. She had to fit everything into Sunday, and she wasn't used to that. Every part of her life was rushed, and even though she didn't like being rushed, she didn't like Saturdays without Jim anymore.

He was so… thoughtful? But that wasn't the right word. Even when he was trying to just be nice, he was amazing her. She secretly wondered if he was some sort of mutant romantic that had come to woo her into something, only to bite her and take her blood and return to Uranus. Usually, when she thought about that, she went back to bed, knowing she was completely deranged. But really, the man had an insight into women—into her—more than any other being she'd ever met. He understood her in a way that just flabbergasted her and left her so completely bare in front of him. She wasn't sure how to react when she was around him; she wasn't sure what to say because it seemed like he already knew it all.

It was a strange feeling. A mix between knowing that he understood before she opened her mouth, knowing that he knew her—knew her so deep that the core of who she is was completely exposed to him—but at the same time, knowing that he felt he knew nothing. Knowing that he wanted more. He wanted to know more than just her height and her eye color and the address of her first house. He wanted to know her in a way that scared her half to death. He looked at her sometimes, and she knew that he just wanted to unravel the mystery that she was and finally uncover what it was about her that made him so mesmerized by her. It was as if he couldn't figure out what 'it' was about her, but he always wanted to. So he kept her talking, reminiscing, anything to get her to speak clearly about who she was and what she wanted, so that maybe he could understand her. That way he looked at her… The way he spoke to her… It sent chills up her spine.

Even on an ordinary day, a day with jeans and a t-shirt and the rolled-out-of-bed look, she felt so special around him. It was as if the world had opened up to her, and whenever she wasn't with him, she was left with it a bit more closed in, and she wondered why she couldn't just keep it so expansive forever. She loved the feeling she got when she was with him, as if she was on the brink of her entire life, and yet, it didn't feel like a huge undertaking, or some huge moment. It was just there. She was on the brink, and it was huge, but it felt so small because he was there beside her.

_She'd had plans the night before with Kelly, and it wasn't until 2 AM that she actually got home, thoroughly unamused that she'd missed Three's Company. She'd texted him, and it wasn't until morning that she'd looked at it and realized it was a little less coherent than she'd originally thought—in fact, it wasn't coherent at all. Just a whole bunch of scrambled letters from where she'd thought she'd used T9 Word, but in her sleepy and somewhat tipsy state… Well, anything was possible._

_She'd woken up that morning with a splintering headache, horrible cramps, and the desire to just stay in bed all day long and do nothing. At first, when she woke up, she'd felt horrible. It was twenty minutes past noon, and she was sure she'd completely missed the start of her and Jim's date. But then she'd opened her cell phone to see a text message from him: Come out when you're feeling better._

_She'd taken a moment to gain composure, but then she'd made her way into the living room. He was watching the TV, almost silently, and when she entered, he looked up before she'd even made a sound. "Hey," he said, turning the TV off without thinking._

"_Hi," she grabbed her head, and he quickly got off the couch and took her hand, helping her lie down. She closed her eyes, and he went into the kitchen, pulling out some pills and coming back into the room. He handed her two aspirins and a vitamin, and a glass of water, and she sat up slightly, taking them all. "I'm sorry, I just really don't feel good…" _

"_That's alright," he said, sitting down across from her. "We don't have to do anything, if you don't feel up to it."_

_She waved him off, "No, no it's fine… Just a splintering headache and some cramping. I should be okay." She bit her lip when she realized all the information she'd just given him, but he didn't seem affected. "You've planned a whole elaborate date… I don't want to ruin it."_

_He shook his head lightly, "J was just for Jam. Don't worry about it."_

"_Jam?" she asked, taking a sip of her water. "You planned a date around Jelly?"_

"_No," he replied, smiling lightly. "Jam."_

"_What's the difference?"_

"_Jam is Jim and Pam… Jelly is Jim and Kelly."_

"_Disgusting," she replied._

"_What is?"_

"_Jelly."_

"_I agree. I'm a Jam fan myself."_

She'd just sat there, staring at her eyelids while he said that, and even though she didn't think a smile had formed on her lips, her entire being felt like flying. It was the kind of comment that miraculously eased her headache and her cramps and made her feel like she could do anything. She'd been desperately trying to force her body into feeling better; she didn't want to let Jim down, and more than that, she didn't want to miss whatever it was they were planning on doing that day. But when he said that… It was like the very core of her was soaring.

He'd brought her two pieces of toast with grape jam on them, placing them in her lap before she could even notice he'd gone to make her anything. They'd talked lightly as she'd eaten, and by the time she'd digested all of the toast, her headache had been non-existent for a good hour or so.

_She'd just sat up on the leather sofas, opening her eyes to see him watching her, a smile across his face and a slight dab of grape jam on his lips. "I'm feeling much better," she'd said, slipping on her shoes. "Thank you."_

"_Wow, that must be some amazing grape jam if it can heal the morning hangover blues and the lady troubles," he said, the smile evident through his voice._

"_It's amazing what jam can do," she trailed off, thinking of the truth present in the statement. They sat in silence for a moment, before she spoke up again, "So, where are we going today?"_

"_Jail," he replied, and she rolled her eyes and laughed. "My other girlfriend is locked up for armed robbery."_

"_Your other girlfriend? Armed robbery?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "I wouldn't picture you as the cheating armed-robbery type."_

"_You learn something new every day," he replied, grinning._

She'd held onto his words, and it wasn't until this moment, lying in bed, staring idly at the ceiling as her whole body was tired but her mind was pulling an all-nighter, that she realized why. He'd called her his girlfriend. Not directly, but discreetly in his statement. His other girlfriend was locked up. Other. Other. She was the first girlfriend. It excited her to no end that he'd called her that, but in ways, it also scared her.

When she'd been with Roy, they'd never officially said they were together. It had been late nights talking about hot chocolate, dinosaur comics, and the guys on the football team, which had led to random outings to go see movies, or go to dinner. They'd quickly become each other's "I want to do this, but I need someone to do it with" person. She went to football banquets and sporting events with him, and he went to chick-flicks and art shows with her. Neither of them particularly enjoyed the other's choice of activity, but they put up with it for the comfort of not having to find someone else to accompany them.

All of that had eventually led to a kiss, and a kiss to making out… And before she knew it, they'd entered into some sort of relationship, where her kisses were reserved for him and her plans included only him. If she hadn't wanted it that way, it still would have been. Roy was the jealous type and the only way she even found out that they'd hit "a relationship" was one day when she'd been talking to Robbie Johnson outside her locker, and he'd come storming up to give her a kiss on the cheek. Robbie'd left—all he really wanted was the French homework—but she'd learned that day that she had, at some point, become Roy's girlfriend.

The idea of slipping into a relationship with Jim made her stomach toss. It wasn't that she didn't want to be Jim's girlfriend—she didn't even really know what she wanted in that area. She just knew she didn't want to slide into a relationship with him. She wanted to have a conversation, know what he wanted, be able to tell what she wanted. She wasn't sure what she wanted that statement to mean, she just knew she wanted to be able to decide this time. She'd wasted so many years of her life slipping. For once, she wanted to stand up, claim her ground, and be her own person.

"_Okay, what do you think our sign should say?" Jim asked, parked on the side of the road, a huge poster and a big, black sharpie in his hand._

"_Buy a loser, fifty cents," she replied, rolling her eyes at him._

"_Oh, come on, Beesly. You're worth more than fifty cents." He was making his thinking expression—an expression that looked like a cross-breed between his confused expression and his lopsided grin. It was somewhat adorable, though she was sure that if anyone else saw it, they'd think he was crazy or drunk or both. "Now, I'm thinking 'The jam stand'… What do you think?"_

"_Okay," she replied, shuffling her feet against the dirt. He looked up, watching her. "That's fine," she said, her eyes open wide in the characteristic, 'just do what you want and pretend I'm not here' look that she'd become so accustomed to over the years._

_He paused for a moment, "Well, if you were creating your own jam stand…" she rolled her eyes. "What would you name it?"_

_She thought for a moment, before shrugging. "Honestly, I'd probably just make the poster say, 'Jam for sale, 75 cents each'." She muttered, staring into the clouds, watching as Mufasa drifted along the sky, joined by a large elephant in a bathtub and the President in a tutu. He straightened up next to her, and she looked over, noticing the words on the sign: Jam for sale, 75 cents each._

She couldn't quite describe what it felt like to see that he'd chosen her idea, even though his was vastly superior. If she'd known he was going to, she probably would have come up with something a little bit more original, but honestly, what did it matter? Nobody was going to see the sign.

Except she did. And seeing that sign did something to her. It was one of those peculiar events that you really only see in movies, where some random, odd-ball fact changes a character's life…. Like a protestor telling a young woman that her baby has fingernails, and nine months later the mother holding her child and being absolutely in love, remembering how she almost didn't have her. Or like a young woman seeing Razzles in the store and being taken back to when she was thirteen and she shared them with her best friend, and all of a sudden, a blue Razzle makes her realize she'd been in love with him the whole time.

She'd felt that strange feeling, looking at the sign. It wasn't miraculous or profound. It was just six words, and a five-year-old could have written them. And yet, it struck something inside her. Why those words? Why had he decided to write her words, not his? Why had she even come up with those words? She understood herself more with those six words… Understood why Roy was so wrong for her... Understood why she'd never really felt _home_ with him.

They'd been Pam and Roy for so long… but she had no idea who Pam was.

Whenever they went out to eat, he ordered. When they decided what color to paint the bedroom, he decided. When they picked the wedding date, he picked. It was always him saying what was going to happen, and her idling behind him. She wasn't sure what it was that made her want to forsake everything she believed in and lived for, but there was something there. Some hidden, underlying message.

_They were sitting in the sun, under a make-shift stand with a poster above them that said Jam for Sale, 75 cents each, talking about everything and nothing all at once, when a Trans Am pulled up. He nudged her slightly under the table, and she looked over at him, smiling. This was the moment they'd been waiting for. The chance to sell their jam._

_He climbed out of the Trans Am, dressed in a deputy sheriff's suit, his boots encasing his pants, and the belt of his pants resting a little bit too high for comfort, she imagined. His hat was a bit crooked, and overall, he'd managed to look even worse in his costume than he did in his normal work attire._

_He charged towards them, banging his fist down on the surface, making their Styrofoam cup full of quarters bounce, a few coins spilling out. "Jim! Pam! What are you doing? You cannot sell jam on private property. I demand to see your permits!"_

"_Our permits," Jim stated._

"_Permits from the city," Dwight said in a demeaning voice, "making this business legal in the eyes of the Scranton Municipal Building." He paused. "Question: Do you sell beet jam?"_

"_Yes! We do!" Pam said, reaching under the table to their storage unit, "Here."_

_He took the jar out of her hand, studying it. "Nice color, composition and clarity… Where did you get the beets?"_

_She bit her lip. "Um, Starbucks." Jim turned and stared at her._

"_Uh, Pam, there is no way Starbucks can sell money beets like mine. Do you even know what a good beet is?"_

_Jim leaned toward her, whispering, "Yeah, Pam, do you even know what a good beet is?"_

"_Uhm no…" she replied, "I mean I never really had any formal lessons on beet picking…" Her face contorted in confusion. "How do you know…" she looked up, an embarrassed look overcoming her. "Umm, you know… What separates the good beets from the bad ones?"_

_He straightened up. "I'm going to tell you like I told Michael. First rule in roadside beet sales, put the most attractive beets on top. The ones that make you pull the car over and go, 'Wow, I need this beet right now.' Those are the money beets."_

_Pam stuttered, "Oh I think these…"_

"_These were in the back, weren't they?" Jim finished for her. Dwight's face paled._

"_Oh, God."_

_Pam nodded, muttering a word of agreement under her breath before Jim continued. "We only paid, like, a nickel for them."_

"_A nickel for one beet?"_

_Words flew out of Pam's mouth. "Uhm, no… It was a penny per beet, or there was a 10 for five deal."_

"_Question: Did Jebediah Wilson sell these to you?" Dwight's face looked angry._

_Jim leaned in. "No, his name wasn't Jebediah… Wait, does he have a son named Habakkuk?"_

"_Yeah," Pam chimed in. "I think his name was Habakkuk Wilson… And what was the little girl's name… Ra… Re…" Her voice stuttered._

"_Rahab," Jim replied, and Dwight nodded, his face taking on a look of disgust._

"_Rahab is fat. And a woman of ill repute."_

_Pam smiled, then quickly stopped. "Maybe she was eating beets with added lard or something? They didn't seem to be very good beets. They had like, white spots on them…"_

_Dwight shuddered. "Do you have the permits or not?"_

_Jim waited a moment before asking, "Dwight, would you like to buy some beet jam?"_

_He opened his mouth to respond, but Pam cut him off, "It's really good, I think you should get some jam."_

"_Uh, no," Dwight replied, shaking his head. "I have my own supply of beet jam. Mose and I made it when Y2K was about to hit. We have enough for 200 years."_

"_200? Wow, how long do Schrutes live?" Pam asked._

"_Pam, they're immortal."_

"_That's not true, Jim," Dwight corrected. "We Schrutes live as long as we want to."_

"_Wouldn't you want to live forever?" Pam asked._

"_No. I will live until my girlfriend dies. Then I will follow the path to Mordor and bravely fight the orcs for freedom and lose my life there, much like Gollum did."_

"_What girlfriend, Dwight?" Jim asked._

"_Is it Kelly?" Pam smiled, and Jim nudged her under the table._

"_Oh, yeah, you and Kelly would be great, Dwight…" Jim trailed._

_Dwight's face turned red, "It's not Kelly, Jim!"_

"_Who is it, Dwight?" Pam asked, teasing him some more._

"_Zip your lid, Pam!"_

"_I bet it's Rahab Wilson," Jim nodded._

"_Damn it, Jim!"_

The jam stand charade had only lasted for a half-hour or so. Jim had done his research and figured out when Dwight was 'off-duty', and then they'd set up the stand accordingly. It was a strange feeling, going on a jam stand date with Jim. Sometimes, their entire relationship was based on childish things, but she didn't really mind… Sometimes, it was nice to go back to childhood.

She'd always wanted to run a lemonade stand when she was younger. She'd see pictures of kids running ones, and sometimes, she'd even see a few kids outside on the sidewalk in her neighborhood. It was always two or three friends, laughing and giggling, dressed up and spilling lemonade everywhere. And it was funny, because she always said they were stupid. Why would she ever want to run a lemonade stand? But really, she just didn't want to run one alone.

Secretly, she loved the idea of a lemonade stand. She ached for somebody to come to her house, make best friends with her, and demand that they run a lemonade stand. She'd grunt and complain, but really, she'd be ecstatic that somebody wanted to run one with her. It was one of those things… she looked back on her childhood and wished she could put a check next to that item on one of the survey emails Kelly sent around.

It was just one of those things that she'd missed out in childhood, and until she sat down at the jam stand on Dwight's beet farm, she hadn't realized she'd felt that way. And then all of a sudden, there was Jim, demanding that she run a jam stand with him, even amidst her protests, and it was almost like all of the bad parts of her childhood suddenly evaporated and were replaced with all of the happy memories of the day.

It had only taken twenty minutes for Dwight to order jam and then promptly kick them off the premises, but even then, she couldn't help but smiling when she thought of it.

"_Jim?" she questioned, climbing in his car. He climbed in next to her and raised his eyebrows, a quizzical expression. "What's your car's name?"_

"_My car's name," he repeated._

_She bit her lip, smiling when he looked at her with a blank expression, "You know, the name of your car. You name your car, don't you? You have to!"_

"_I've never heard of naming an inanimate object," he replied, smirking._

"_You didn't name your teddy bears in pre-school?" she teased, and he laughed, nodding and putting the car in drive._

"_Okay, no making fun of Mr. Snuffles."_

"_I'm not making fun of Mr. Snuffles," she said with a straight face. Then a moment later, "I'm making fun of you."_

"_Hardy har har," he replied, a slight chuckle in his voice. "So, tell me about this naming of the car business."_

"_What do you mean?" she asked, laughing. "I guess I just feel like you should name your car. I mean, you spend a lot of time with the Corolla… Don't you think you should name her?"_

"_Her?"_

"_Jim, she's totally a her," Pam replied, rolling her eyes, a look of surprise on her face. "What makes you think this car could ever be a male?"_

"_I don't know…" he replied, following the dirt road. "I mean, I don't know what… parts a female has that a male doesn't."_

_Her eyes went wide, and even though she knew he was referring to automobiles, she couldn't help herself. "Well, Jim… A female has a vagina… Really? They never taught you this in fifth grade?"_

"_The Corolla does not have a vagina, Pam."_

"_It doesn't have a penis, either." She replied, looking out the window._

_He chuckled, "So what is the Yaris' name? Harvey? Henry? Jack?"_

_She turned to him, a look of disgust on her face, "You're really bad at the whole car gender thing. Her name is Sylvia."_

"_Sylvia? I like that."_

"_Thanks, we have fun." Pam replied._

"_Don't you have a friend named Sylvia?" he asked._

"_No…"_

"_But, a few weeks ago, I called you and you said you were at the mall with Sylvia…" he trailed off, and she glared at him for a moment, before he finally got it. "Ohh…"_

"_Shut up," she said, smiling and crossing her arms over her chest. "So, what's your Corolla's name?"_

"_Umm… Leslie."_

_She arched an eyebrow at him, just as the car made a noise that sounded like a pig at the bacon factory._

"_Okay, guess not. Um. Linda."_

_She shook her head, and the ride was all of a sudden a bit more rocky._

"_Julie."_

"_Julia," she replied, and the ride suddenly went smooth. He looked over at her, raised his eyebrows and smiled._

"_Julia, it is." She nodded, and he continued, "So, what's the advantage of naming your car?"_

"_Oh, Jim," she replied. "You have so much to learn."_

She laughed to herself. How was it possible that Jim had never named any of his cars? She'd named all of hers, even Roy's truck when she hadn't had her own car. She'd bought her first car for twelve-hundred dollars three months after she turned sixteen, borrowing the money from her dad until she could find a job. It was a beat up Honda, about fifteen years old. It was originally blue, but so much of the paint had flaked off that now it was more like the color of rust. It held dirt easily, the air conditioning didn't work, and the passenger's side seatbelt only worked when certain people rode in the front seat.  
It squeaked, and when she took the speed bumps too fast, the entire back of her car made a huge thunking sound, and for a moment, every time, she wondered if she still owned the back of her car. She'd gotten in an accident the week after she got it, forgetting to look at the car in front of her before moving when the light turned green. Her car had been only three hundred dollars away from being totaled, and as a result, the hood of the Honda looked much newer than the rest of the car ever had. She'd named her Allie, because she had an artsy, stubborn sort of a character to her, but she was a wise car. She kicked herself for ignoring the fact that every time Roy settled into the front seat, the seatbelt waited for three seconds before it deliberately hit into his neck. He always had red lines on his neck after riding in her car.

Her second car was a year into college, when Allie had to be sent to car heaven after Roy backed into it one day, forgetting to look behind him as he left late one night. He'd rammed straight into Allie, and although Pam had heard the sound of metal crunching up in her room rather loudly, she swore she could hear the sound of Allie crying louder. She knew she was somewhat delusional, but everyone said you fall in love with your first car, and she had. Until Roy had killed her.

She'd gotten a Honda civic as her replacement car, a red one with less character than Allie, and sometimes, it almost made her sad. She pretty much ran smoothly the entire time, all of her lights worked, and the air conditioning blasted out cold air on a moment's notice. She'd named her Hope, not really ever thinking the name suited her completely. When she'd found Allie, the name had just screamed out at her, but Hope wasn't that kind of car. She was bland; she had little personality, but unlike Allie, she was reliable. Everything worked, and on time. She got to where she needed to be. The quirks were gone, but they were traded for stability and reliability.

Roy had proposed to her in the middle of a sports bar one night, with Kenny passed out next to her. They'd gone to watch the Toronto Maple Leafs battle out the Philadelphia Flyers (it always annoyed her that Toronto was the Maple Leafs… Didn't they know proper English?) and just a few spilled beers and fifteen shots on goal into it, he'd proposed to her over a plate of loaded fries. He'd stumbled over the words, slurring lightly, and at first, she'd almost thought maybe he had just let it pop out without thinking, but he flashed the ring in front of her (and then he dropped it) and she knew it was for real. And she was in love with him, and even though he was drunk and vulgar and they were in the middle of watching a hockey game, she accepted. After all, who knew if he'd ever do it again?

After the ring had hit her finger and she'd graduated from college and gotten the job at Dunder Mifflin, she'd traded in Hope for some wedding cash. After all, what did she need a car for? Roy's truck worked just fine. She became very comfortable with the passenger seat of the beat up pickup truck—he never let her drive it anywhere, and even if he had, he was out with it most of the time anyway. She'd quickly named it Butch. It ran rugged, looked rugged, and hardly ever had a bath. And, of course, it went out drinking with Roy every night. What other name could it possibly have?

After everything had blown over with Roy and Butch, Pam had stabbed Butch in the tires, keeping Roy stranded at the house, which was actually probably best for him. She hadn't been in the mood to get a call from a police officer that night anyway. That week, Jim had let her drive his Corolla—even though she'd been a Honda girl all her life—and wanting to branch out from the world she'd encased herself in, she'd had him drive her out to the dealership that night. She'd signed her life away to get Sylvia the Yaris.

Sylvia had a personality. She was brand new, and Pam was proud to have her. Sylvia was a somewhat metallic blue, and she reminded Pam of her art in some strange way. The first time Pam had spotted Sylvia, she'd actually thought she was a great color to mix with a burnt orange and a bright, lime green in a painting. She'd naturally gravitated toward her. Sylvia was the kind of car that got 30 miles to the gallon and took you zero to sixty in no time at all, which was really good because Pam couldn't control herself when driving. She was a speed demon, not necessarily because she wanted to hit 100 or she had to hurry to be somewhere, she just didn't really like being in the car all the time. She got nervous on road trips that she'd forget which exit to get off at or how to get somewhere, so she always wanted to get everywhere early to save the time. Just in case. With Sylvia, she felt like she didn't need to be. Sylvia would get her where she needed to go, and if she didn't, well, that was okay, too.

Sylvia made her feel free. Alive. Like she was on the brink of something spectacular. Like she could do anything. Invincible and infinite. Sylvia brought back some sort of feeling of youthfulness to her… Like she was Allie incarnate, a feeling of freeness and vulnerability. She was stable, but she was a different kind of stable… She was free, and the world was within her grasp. And maybe that's the way she felt now, free and youthful… But yet, there was still that aching… The past. The memories of Hope and Butch that kept her from living out the freeness that was Sylvia. Sylvia was a great car, and she loved Sylvia, but Sylvia wasn't Allie. Parts of Allie were lost on Sylvia, and she wasn't sure if she could ever get them back.

_She opened the door to the apartment, holding two cartons of Chinese food and flicking on the light. He came behind her, a plastic grocery bag in his hands. She sauntered over to the table, setting down the cartons and pulling out two plates and some silverware. _

_"What do you want to drink?" he asked, opening her refrigerator door after he set the bag down._

_"I think there are some peach sodas in there," she said, pouring half of Jim's dinner on her own plate. She picked up her fork, looked over at him to make sure he wasn't watching her, and then stuck it in his carton. She chewed on his sesame chicken for a minute before going back to her own plate, convinced he would see her if she tried again. He brought her a glass of fizzling soda, and himself one, and opened her dinner and poured half of it on his plate._

_"Ooh, Lo Mein. Good choice," he said, grinning. _

_"It's my safety Chinese food. I just eat whatever my date's having if I'm still hungry," she replied, her mouth half open from chewing. He laughed, and she pointed at the grocery bag with her chopstick, letting a piece of chicken fall into her lap. "What's in that?"_

_He grinned. "Sure you want to know?" She nodded, and he untied the bag after taking a large bite of food to tie him over. He pulled out Dwight's Dundie that they'd stolen over a month ago and set it on the table._

_She smiled, rolling her eyes and shaking her head lightly. "Dundie, Elf… Dwight… Idiotic.."_

_"What are you doing?" he asked, laughing._

_"Trying to figure out where the J is," she smiled, laughing lightly._

_He pulled out four boxes of Lime jello, setting them in front of her, and she could make out the appearance of a word written on each box. She smiled as he rearranged them on the table, then pushed them toward her so she could read the sentence: Don't cross over, okay?_

_She laughed, got up out of her chair and picked up a sharpie, turning each box over and writing her message. She arranged the boxes so her message, "O-K-A-Y" and pushed it toward him. He smiled, and they both stuffed their faces a little bit more, before she got up and got a pan out of the cupboard._

_"You ready to encase this thing?" She asked, winking at him. His eyes went wide, and he smiled._

_"Oh, you know me so well." _

She smiled, thinking of the jello mold that was in her refrigerator, the Dundie that was gooey with the surrounding greenness. She giggled at the thought of Dwight's face when he opened his desk drawer on Monday morning to find it in there. His prize possession.

They'd spent hours preparing the jello, as Jim was very particular about how the mold was made. She'd never made one before—Roy had always thought office pranks were silly and immature, and so she'd conformed to his beliefs, opting out of the jello molding every time Jim had asked for her help. She'd always regretted it, looking back on it and seeing how people reacted, and a small part of her had always resented Roy for doing it.

Roy had always held her back. He'd kept her from going to the big state school she'd wanted to after high school; he'd kept her from going overseas on an art fellowship that she'd gotten; he'd kept her from going to New York to really pursue her graphic design career. She wasn't the type that was going to do anything unless she was pushed and prodded. She was naturally pessimistic about her own work, and unless she had people banging down her door telling her how amazing her artwork was, she was going to believe her toughest critic, herself. It wasn't that he'd pushed her away from it completely—she'd admit that she was the one walking the other way, but he hadn't done anything to make her want to turn around. He'd just fed her little comments, like, "come on, Pammy, what about us?" when she'd mentioned going away, or "New York is so expensive… You probably won't even make it," when she'd told him about moving after graduation. And slowly, but surely, she'd learned to listen to those voices in her head. The tough critic ones. And she'd started to walk away from what she wanted, holding on to the safety net that was Roy, and clutching onto the railings of her life, afraid to let go of anything that might keep her from falling.

She thought about Allie, and Hope, and Butch, and Sylvia. How Roy had killed Allie, killed the independence and freedom, the stubbornness and the spirit that came with her. How he'd rammed into her and sent her broken to the ground, unable to be repaired. She thought about Hope, the practical, safe one. How she'd taken her everywhere she was supposed to go, but there was no feeling the wind or being free associated with her. It was all prompt, neat and proper with Hope. And when she'd traded Hope in for wedding cash that had flown out of her hands like sand, she'd lost who she was. Her free, adventurous spirit had been replaced by the desire to be socially acceptable, which had, in turn, been muddied and ruined by the stains of dependence, until finally, she'd found herself struggling to find even a glimpse of who she used to be.

Tears fell down her cheeks and she sat up in bed, clutching her knees to her chest. When had she become this person? Who was this person? How had she let herself become so broken and fragile because of him? The tears turned into sobs. Breathless, numbing sobs, and she couldn't figure out how to turn them off. She reached shakily for the phone on the bedside table, unsure of anything in her life. Her world was shaken, beaten, and the only thing she could think to do was call _him_.

She dialed his number shakily, feeling emptier with each progressive ring. She was about to hang up, when she heard his voice, groggy on the other end. "Pam?"

She sobbed into the phone, unable to voice what was wrong, unable to tell him how she was feeling. She was trying. She wasn't sure if it was the words that wouldn't come or the thoughts, but something was blocked. The only sort of anything her body was letting out were tear soaked expressions of pain. She could hear him, sitting up in bed. "Pam, what's wrong?"

He sounded worried, and she wanted to reassure him, but she couldn't. The words stuck in her throat, pushing the sobs that had already lodged there out, and all of a sudden, she was gasping for air, unable to breathe. He could hear her wheezing into the phone, and she could hear his voice, constantly protruding into her ears, but she couldn't hear him. She had no idea what he was saying, and his voice was becoming more and more muffled the longer she tried.

She could hear rustling on the other end, but she didn't know what for. All she could think to do was cry, more and more. Like she'd never cried before. She'd shed a few tears for the fragments of she and Roy's relationship, but sitting on her bed, thinking of how stupid she'd been… Thinking of how many years she'd wasted on him… Well, it only brought more pain to the surface. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't find the sound. All she could find were the tears, and those moments when her lungs seemed to cave in and she was left starving for air.

She was in a ball on her bed, trying to catch her breath, hugging herself tight, her cheeks stained with the tears of regret, when she felt the bed shift and his hands on her back. She untangled herself from the ball and lunged into his arms, wrapping hers around him and crying, sobbing into his shoulder. His arms were hugging her so tight that under any other circumstances, she might have felt suffocated or sick, but today, they were just right. It was as if he was holding her so hard he was keeping her from spinning out of control.

He rubbed her back, whispering soothing sounds in her ears as the sobs lessened, and she learned to breathe again. She screamed into his shoulder twice, burying her nails into his back so hard that there was no doubt there would be a mark there the next morning. He kept rubbing her back, though, patting her head and as the cries became less intense and her heart felt lighter, she began to hear the words he was speaking to her. The soft and silent 'it's okay's and the 'i'm right here's, and all of the other normal smoothing words that had somehow taken on a new meaning for her.

When the last sob had escaped her and the force inside her that had pushed on every wall of her body so hard she wanted to explode had moved outside her body, she buried her head in the crook of his neck, breathing steadily against him. He was patting her head, and she could feel herself drifting off into sleepiness. She leaned her head up and whispered in his ear softly, "You're Sylvia…" and laid down, and finally fell asleep, leaving him to wonder what she'd meant.

* * *


	12. K is for Condoms

A bit shorter this time, but you guys can live with it. It gets different from here on out... Maybe. And, thanks to Elly for voice of ridiculousness and Katy for beta' ing. You're both fantastic. :)

Review Replies:

Literati- I'm glad you liked it! And nice word :)  
Country Cutie- I'm afraid that completely happy JAM isn't possible. However, if you stick through the bumpy ride in the next few chapters, it will get happier, I promise. :)  
Madi- I'm glad you enjoyed the car metaphor! I was hoping you guys would "get it".  
KT- Thanks! And yes, I love Juno... I didn't really love it until the end though--I've always wanted to be Jennifer Garner, haha. And thank you! I was hoping you all would get where I was going about the cars :)  
Alison- JC girl! You have three thumbs? haha. And by the way, it actually is my doing that J is #10. Just, so you know. ;) Oh, and the cars, maybe my most brilliant part yet. Hah. I loved writing that part.  
Meg- Thanks!! The money beets are out on top!  
HanBanan- Thanks so much! And yay for a new reviewer! And about the ending of the chapter-- I had NO idea it was going to end that way. Actually, I wasn't even planning on Roy being in the chapter at all, but when I started writing, well, that's what happened. So, thanks!  
PamBeesly- Thank you.  
Dancer- I'm glad you liked the flashback idea--I wasn't sure how everyone would like it, but it just seemed to work. It's hard coming up with creative ways to START every chapter, hah.  
DizZy- Thanks so much!  
Dean-yes, they're moving closer, but do they have many hurdles? of course they do. and pam will not be the only hurdle in their relationship.  
Bravery- Thanks! Dwight cracks me up. Gosh, I wish I knew him.  
Kerber- Thanks so much! I love when Pam goes deep in her mind and analyzes her life... I just plain love it! It's much harder to write though. I try and get to know Pam as well as I can and to really capture her thoughts and feelings as best I can, and the best way to do that is to put myself in her shoes. So, often times, as I did last chapter, I end up upset and crying too. Oh well. :)  
Kathryn- Thanks so much. And I love those biblical names too. Rahab the prostitute. muahaha.  
Eaglechic- I'm glad you enjoyed it. Enjoy your sandwich.  
Absolution- I did see Juno, and it was fantastic!  
Christine- Thanks so much!! K is here. I hope you're not too dissapointed!  
SmallTuna- I've had Allie (Pam's car), and Jewdy. And thanks so much--that's such a high compliment. Wow!  
Henantz- Thanks so much! Updating NOW.  
RachSprags- I'm glad you liked the format, I wasn't so sure if it would be well-receieved. And yes, i love 13 going on 30 :)  
Ruli- I'm glad you loved the memory! It was hard, trying to pick out the date and using only what Pam would remember, from her point of view, but I think it worked well. Jelly makes me sick too. :)  
Katy- Thank youuuu. You were awesome. Pam will become whole. She will; she will.  
Anon- yes, she did. Thank you!  
Maddi- Juno was great, and thanks so much!! I try to get as into Pam's character as I can, and sometimes that's way painful, but I think it makes for realistic reading.  
Froody- Oh God, it was horrible to write because I feel Pam's pain... As a writer, you want to get in your character's shoes, and that's a hard one. But it was wonderful too, because I got to work through her problems with her, and that's just great. I love it. The climb towards optimism will start these next few chapters, hopefully.  
NakedLight- Thanks so much! I'm a geek for them too.  
Yabberli- You're awesome. Thanks so much about the formats--I'm never sure how to do that!  
Amanda- Thanks so much! And I'll tell you right now, there is no way they'll be M is for marriage. M is for something much cheaper.

* * *

She got out of the car, quickly pushing the red cart out of the parking space so he could park, her arms folded against her chest as she watched him. He laughed at her, accelerating just enough to make her scurry away quickly, a smile on her face. He grinned, getting out of the car, and grabbed his wallet, stuffing it in his back pocket.

He made his way toward her, and she frowned, her arms still crossed over her chest. "What?" he asked her.

"I hate the K," she replied bitingly, and he nearly chuckled until he realized she was serious. "It reminds me of clogged toilets and cockroaches and Roy."

"Clogged toilets, cockroaches, and Roy," he repeated, shrugging. "All of which are pretty unpleasant." He looked down to see her smiling up at him, and he returned her smile, before changing the subject. "So, I saw _When Harry Met Sally_ last night."

"So did I!" she bounced a little next to him, and he chuckled. "TBS at 10, right?" He rolled his eyes, and she blushed slightly. "God, I love that movie."

"You just like the orgasm scene," he teased, and she giggled, nodding slightly. "So, do you agree with it?"

"Orgasming in restaurants?" she asked, and he burst out laughing. "Whatever floats your boat, I guess."

He laughed, looking at her, and her face turned red as she realized that wasn't what he'd meant. "I mean, what do you think of the whole premise of the movie?"

"That men and women can't be friends?" she asked, her eyebrows wrinkling. He nodded, and she chuckled, stopping for a moment in the middle of the road. "Do you really think there's underlying sexual tension with me and Stanley?" she asked, laughing.

"Stanley's married."

"Okay, Kevin."

"Kevin's engaged."

"Okay, Michael."

"Is… doing something with Jan."

"Okay, Dwight."

He stopped, looking at her, then brought his finger up to his chin. "Now that I think about it, you two did look pretty comfortable the other day at the beet farm…" She swatted him lightly and he laughed. "No, but really, in a close friendship between a man and a woman, do you think it's possible to have the absence of sexual tension?"

She thought for a moment as he opened the door to the store, and she walked in front of him through the doors, looking back at him, "Nope, not possible." He smiled, opened his mouth to inquire further and push the issue of their friendship, when a pimple-faced kid appeared in front of them.

"Hi, I'm Kramer. Welcome to K-mart, if I can be of any assistance to you today, please just let me know," he said, and Jim silently wanted to kick him in the face for being so obnoxious as to jump in front of them like that.

Instead, he only nodded, and led her down the random aisles of the store. "I have no idea where anything is," he laughed, and she smiled.

"I really don't think they sell kites here, Jimbo."

"Please don't call me that," he smiled.

"Especially not the care bears ones that you like," she laughed loudly, and he was sure that all of Scranton could hear her.

"Oh, God…" he muttered to himself. "Didn't you have a CD you needed to get or something?"

She laughed, her face lighting up. "Oh! Yeah! I'll go find it. Why don't you go find your kindergarten class a kite?" He rolled his eyes, nodding, and she skipped off in the direction of the CDs, leaving him to browse through the store to find the kites section. After ruling out Health & Beauty, Home & Garden, and Appliances, he settled on Sporting Goods, wandering through the aisles with the baseball gloves and bats before stopping in his tracks in front of the hockey pucks. His face contorted in disgust as he saw the image in front of him.

There _he_ was, browsing through hockey pucks, two cases of beer, a pack of boysenberry flavored condoms, a set of lingerie, ketchup, and the latest copy of Maxim in his cart. Jim grunted in disgust, causing Roy to turn around and stare him down. "Hey, Halpert, what's shakin?"

Jim stuffed his hands in his pocket. "Not much, Roy," he said, looking around. _God, boysenberry? Gross. _He took a look at the cart again and puffed, and when he looked up, Roy was staring at him. "I didn't know you liked to dress up in lady lingerie? Might want to get a bigger size, buddy."

Roy gave him a look. "Actually, it's for my new girl, Candi. She's hot, man. I mean, Pam had nice boobs, but god... Talk about an upgrade, huh?" Jim whistled, giving a slight shake of his head before Roy leaned in and half-whispered, "Plus, I don't have to force her to do anything _nasty_."

Jim could feel himself shudder, the anger rising in him a bit quickly as he stepped away from Roy. "Well, it was good seeing you man." He said, walking away quickly. He grabbed the first kite he saw, heading to the electronics section to find Pam.

He wandered through the sections, knowing she'd said she wanted the new John Mayer CD. He finally spotted her in front of the DVD rack, and he smiled to himself, heading over to where she was quickly and placing his hands over her eyes.

She squealed lightly, the squeal turning into a series of giggles. "Guess Who?" he asked in a high falsetto voice.

She snaked her hand back and touched his thigh, "Sexy Stanley?" she asked and he jumped back, letting go of his hold over her eyes and she laughed, turning around, CD in hand. "So, what does our kite look like?"

He laughed, showing her the kite and for the first time seeing Dora The Explorer plastered all over the pink-based kite. She laughed, leaning in against him a bit, before rolling her eyes. "You are such a little kid!"

"She was the hottest cartoon they had!" he protested, making a face at his own remark.

"Should it scare me that a four year old illegal immigrant is hot to you?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes," he replied, as they walked toward the checkout. They checked out their items and walked out to the car. As they were walking out, Jim noticed Roy out of the corner of his eye, and he stepped in front of Pam, blocking her line of vision until they passed. She kept chatting, her happy demeanor not falling and he smiled, knowing he'd just saved her from a moment that would have weighed on her for days.

As they drove to the park, Pam talked happily about her new CD, detailing for him how excited she'd been to hear each of the new songs. He listened intently the eighth time she mentioned track nine, although his interest in what she was saying waned with each recount, and he ended up just dazing out the window.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked suddenly, jolting him out of his daze. He looked over at her, quickly realizing that any effort he made to divert the focus of the conversation would be wasted on her. She looked concerned.

He pulled the car over and turned to her, and her face suddenly looked more confused and serious than it had before. "Did Roy ever hit you?" he asked, and her eyes went wide with shock.

"No," she said, too quickly.

He sighed, studying her before laying his head down on the steering wheel. He could feel her watching him, and when he looked up, he was surprised to see that her eyes were fixated on his back shoulder. "Pam."

"What?" she asked quickly, jolting out of whatever dreamlike state she'd visited.

"Did Roy ever hit you?" he asked again, and she looked away. Out the window, at the dashboard, down at her shoes, anywhere but at him. He sighed, but she didn't flinch. His anger at Roy was boiling up inside of him, and finally, when he couldn't take anymore, he snapped at her. "Answer me, damn it."

She turned to him, an angry look on her face. "Yes, okay? Why does it matter?" she crossed her arms over her chest, looking down. He was having a hard time breathing; his anger at Roy was quickly making steam come out of his ears.

"When? How? God, Pam, why didn't you tell anyone?" he asked, his voice turning from serious to soft as he realized how it must have sounded to her.

"I.. I don't know," she was flustered, and he felt bad, but the overwhelming part of him needed to know. "I guess like last summer? Right after you started dating _Katy_," she said, and he could hear the disdain on her voice. He ran his fingers through his hair, "I was hoping either you'd figure it or nobody would." Her voice was softer, and he looked up at her. She wasn't crying, but there was something there he couldn't quite place.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice," he said, and she shook it off, muttering under her breath something about him forgetting to notice her when Katy was around. Her words pierced him, but he knew she was hurt, and he wasn't going to downplay that by mentioning his own feelings. "I just wish you would have told me," he said softly.

She nodded. "It wasn't very often… and he always apologized right after," she rationalized, and he looked over at her.

"It's still not okay."

He stared at her for a moment, until she nodded, her voice quiet. "I guess I just thought maybe I deserved it." Her eyes immediately returned to the window, and she stared out of it for a long time. He watched her, unsure what to do before he put his hand over hers on the seat, his voice strong and sure.

"You didn't deserve it," he replied, and he saw her head bob, and he knew she understood. He swallowed and started the car again, driving toward the lake. They were both silently lost in their own thoughts for most of the ride. "We can talk about it, if you want to," he said softly, sure that his words would be lost in the air.

They were for a moment, and he could hear her lips part a few times before she shakily said, "Okay." He sighed and looked over at her, but she wasn't looking at him, she was just looking at her hands, playing nervously with her fingers. "It started like a week after you started dating Katy. I don't know why he picked then, but I guess I came home from the office that night and I was tired and I didn't want to…" She trailed off, looking at him and then at the glove box, "You know… and he did, obviously." He smiled lightly, before realizing that a smile in this case wouldn't help her open up, at which he abruptly stopped.

He reached over and touched her hand, and she recoiled a bit before letting him touch her. "I mean, he's always been kind of verbally abusive, though he thinks it's just joking," she said, "but he never hit me or anything before, and I really didn't think he'd do it. I used to think that if he didn't do it drunk he wouldn't do it sober." Jim nodded, and she let out a breath, shakily, and continued, "And so we started fighting because he wanted that and I just wanted to sit there and watch a movie and fall asleep, and then our fight escalated into more and we stared yelling about the dishwasher and the trash and my art and… our friends," Jim winced. She stopped for a moment, before looking up at him again, "are you sure you want to hear this?"

He nodded, "yes."

She bit her lip. "It might be a little painful?"

"It already is, but I want to know," he replied, and she nodded.

"Well, he started asking me all of these penetrating questions about me and you, and if we'd ever done anything… or you know… And he asked me what I thought about you and I told him…" She looked down at her kneecaps, "that you were my best friend and that I was really thankful to have you and… you know… and he…" Her face scrunched in anger, "he grabbed my arm and then he slapped me across the face and… well, then he apologized…"

Jim let out a steady breath, squeezing her hand. "I… I'm really sorry," he said, and she looked up at him, nodding, as they reached a red light. He looked over at her, "Thank you for telling me," he said softly. "I know it was difficult for you."

She nodded. "I wanted you to know… I just didn't know how…"

"I know," he said, and she smiled softly.

"I think it was maybe nine or ten times after that… Really sporadic, at first. More so in the last few weeks," she said, and her voice had changed, almost to an apathetic tone. "I guess once you start it's hard to stop… Like Pringles."

He laughed lightly, and she smiled, letting a comfortable silence surround them for a few moments. "Hey, thanks for listening," she said, smiling up at him.

He nodded. "I'm sorry I wasn't listening earlier."

She laughed, "Well, I couldn't blame you. Katy's hot."

"She's alright," he smiled, pulling up next to a tree and parking. He started whistling, before singing in a soft voice, _Let's go fly a kite…Up to the highest height… _She joined in, laughing, _Let's go fly a kite, and send it soaring…_ He stopped singing, letting her belt out the next phrase in her soft, beautiful voice,_ Up through the atmosphere, up where the air is clear _before joining with her for the final parts, _Oh, let's go fly a kite! Let's go fly a kite! _

She giggled next to him, "Mary? Mary Poppins?" she asked in an English voice, and he laughed, as they both got out of the car. She carried the kite out to the fields, and he followed her. "I've never flown a kite before," she said, "is it hard?"

"That's what she said," he replied, and she giggled into her hand. "It can be a little tricky, but luckily you have an expert with you to help." She smiled, rolling her eyes. "You've got to hang on to this part really tight, okay?" he asked, playing with string of the kite. "If you don't the kite will fly away and that will make for a very boring date."

She smiled. "Okay, hold on to that thingy, got it."

"Then you just run fast. The hardest part is to get it off the ground, once you do that, you can just kinda walk around a bit or whatever."

She nodded. "How do I get it off the ground?"

"You run real fast," he repeated, and she turned red, laughing.

"Oh, okay…" She said, as he unwrapped the plastic around the kite.

"You're all set. Just start running as fast as you can," he said, patting her lightly. She grinned, taking off down the stretch of grass. The kite bounced behind her, barely getting up off the ground. "Move your arm up!" he yelled at her, and she stopped running and turned around.

"What?" she asked, and he covered his face and laughed. _Oh man._

"Well, first of all, you need to start running again," he said, and she laughed, biting her lip and taking off again, "Now, keep running, but lift your arm up in the air a little more," he said, and she did so, making the kite fly off the ground and into the air. She looked above her and saw it, and automatically stopped running, and he laughed, running over to her, trying to catch her before the kite hit the ground again.

It was faltering up in the air, coming down slowly, and he could see she was confused as he grabbed her hand and pushed her forward, running with her and watching the kite soar back up into the sky. She stopped for a second, but he kept pulling her, "you can't stop until it's all the way in the sky," he said, and she nodded, running again.

"I'm not a good kite flyer," she said when they'd stopped, as she watched the kite in the clouds.

"Sure you are," he replied, "I'm just not a very good teacher."

"Well, that is true," she replied, and he laughed. They were silent for a moment, before she started chuckling next to him.

"What's so funny?" he asked, staring at her, laughing.

"I never told you how your dare went!" her eyes were wide, and he stared at her for a moment before his jaw dropped.

"Oh my god! Spill, Beesly! Now!" he said, laughing.

_"Hey Dwight, whatcha doin'?" she asked, hoisting herself up on the edge of his desk.._

_"Just figuring out the coordinates to the time continuum mentioned in The Last Mimzy. Now, if you would please go back to whatever you were doing, I would be glad. Thank you." He replied._

_She crossed one leg over the other, causing her skirt to hitch up slightly. "But Dwight, I…" she trailed off seductively, and he looked down, averting his eyes quickly, and then looked over to accounting quickly to make sure Angela wasn't looking. She ran her fingers over his desk lazily._

_"What are you doing, Pam?" he asked, whispering in a low voice._

_She stuttered lightly, moving her leg up farther, "I… It's been a long time, Dwight… I just…"_

_"Pam, I have a girlfriend… Oh my god." His face was half-terrified, half-delighted as he quickly looked down at her legs, then back up again._

_She leaned into his ear and whispered, "I won't tell if you don't tell."_

_"What about Jim?"_

_"I'm not with Jim," she said, curtly. "I want to be with you, Dwight."_

_"But, I have a girlfriend and I love her," he said, shaking his head and putting it in his hands. "If only you had come to me with this information two years ago."_

_"I would give…" she said, running her hand over his arm and licking her lips, "anything." He quickly looked around, pale and sweaty as she bit her lip slightly, taking a look at Kelly and winking._

_"Excuse me," he said, jumping out of his seat and running toward the bathroom, nearly knocking her off the desk. She giggled, watching as Kevin rose out of his seat, meeting Dwight outside of the bathroom._

_"Niiiiiiiice," she heard him say, giving Dwight a fist-pound, "You should totally hit that. I bet it's awesome," and with that, she picked up her coat and purse and headed home._

"Oh my god, Beesly, you scored!" he said, a grin evident on his face. "Where was I?" He asked, his mind reeling with how perfect she was.

"It was that day everyone in sales, other than Dwight, had to go to that conference or whatever it was," she grinned. "Friday, I think."_ Oh God, worst day of my life. _

"So, did he ever hit that?" he asked, laughing. She stuck out her tongue at him, lightly. "Next, I think you'll have to hit on Angela. Make it even." He gagged, and she chuckled, moving a bit so the kite could still fly.

"Well, I have heard the uptight Christian bitch is the one to chase," he said, and not even before it was completely out of his mouth he regretted it. She was silent next to him, watching the kite flying in the air with an intensity he hadn't seen on her face in a long time. "I'm sorry," he apologized, turning to her. She nodded, staring up at the kite, moving her hand in a pattern to keep it flying. He sighed, "look at me…"

He kept staring at her as she looked up in the sky, seemingly resolved to avoid his gaze. Finally, after he'd stared at her for what felt like hours, she turned toward him, glaring—a mix of anger and hurt in her eyes. It killed him to know that he'd put it there. "I really am sorry, Pam." He said, and she just nodded, looking down at her shoes. He groaned. He hated it when she did that.

"Look at me, not your shoes," he said softly, and after a moment of hesitation, she met his gaze. "I'd pick you over her any day."

She was staring at him, watching him with some sort of strange expression on her face, before her words came out monotonous and unfeeling, "But would you do me before you'd do her?"

He stared back at her, matching her even tone, "I'd do you before I did Kevin."

She clenched her teeth together, and he knew they'd just resolved it. She was trying to hold back her laughter, but he wasn't having any of it. He made his funny face and she cracked a smile, before letting little pieces of laughter flutter in the air. He smiled and winked at her as the kite came crashing down next to them.

* * *

"Okay, Pam, you have to promise to keep an open mind about where we're going," he said, and she looked at him funny.

"Oh, God, we're not going Banana Slings, are we?" she asked, her face white.

"Yeah. I'm going to take you to Banana Slings on our K date," he said, rolling his eyes. "Get real, Pam. Banana starts with B, or haven't you been talking to Kelly recently?"

She smiled, "This day is Bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S, I know… But it could have been k is for kinky or something?" she trailed off.

He laughed. "K is only for kinky if you want it to be," he replied and her eyes went wide as she brought her knees up to her chest. He smiled, "We're not going to a strip club."

"Hooters?" she asked, recognizing the street they were on and groaning.

"Nope, too expensive for me," he said, and she laughed. "We'll play a game to see if you can guess it."

"Oh brother."

"I'm not your brother," he replied, "You have 20 yes or no questions to see if you can figure out where we're going."

"Is it a public place?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Do they serve food there?"

"Maybe if you paid for it." She rolled her eyes, laughing lightly.

"What kind of food?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"You only have 16 questions left." She pouted.

"Umm… Would Michael go there?"

"Absolutely." She grimaced.

"Are there…" she stopped, pondering her word choice. "Lady performers?"

"Yes." Her eyes went wide. _Wow. That was a great setup._

"Do the performers _dance_?" One eyebrow arched in suspicion.

"Some do." She looked like she wanted to throw up. "You only have 12 questions left."

"Why would I ever want to go to a strip club?" she blurted out.

"No."

"Huh?"

"Yes or no answers only. 10 left."

"Is there alcohol?"

"Yes."

"Thank god," she replied. "Do you have to tip the performers?"

"Nope," he replied, and her face visibly relaxed.

"Are the performers wearing clothes?"

"Under most conditions."

"Would Angela condemn us to hell for going?"

Jim stopped, thinking about her question. "I'm not completely sure, but yes. Definitely. 5 left."

"Are there beets involved?"

"If not, wouldn't we just go home?" He laughed. She joined in, rolling her eyes.

"Does it start with K?"

"Yes."

"Kiss factory?"

"No."

"Karaoke?"

"Yes! That's it!" he said, grinning.

"Are you kidding me?" she asked, groaning slightly. He laughed, pulling into the parking lot. He took her hand, leading her inside as they sat at a circular table, somewhat near the front of the stage. She was looking at the ground the whole time, and he chuckled lightly as they sat down next to each other so they could both see the stage. There was a leggy blonde performing a teeny bopper song up at the front, but all he could hear was Pam whispering over and over again, "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you." He chuckled and raised a finger at the waiter.

She came over to them, her shorts close to riding up her butt, a halter top that barely kept anything in, and her hair done up in one of those fancy chopsticks. She was chewing gum, or rather, smacking her gum, and she had a slight accent. "What can I get ya?" She rolled her eyes.

He gestured toward Pam, "What would you like?"

"Umm, a water," she replied, "with Lemon."

"Nope," he said, shaking his head at her.

"What?"

"Get a drink. Nobody orders water at a bar," he replied. She sighed.

"I'll have a light beer." He grinned, before turning to the waitress and ordering a regular. She crossed her arms across her chest, obviously trying to show him how much of a bad time she intended on having at the karaoke bar.

"Okay, spoil sport, what's the problem?" he asked, looking at her.

"I just don't like bars…." She said, watching the performer above, "or karaoke, really."

"Well you've just never been to one with me, that's all," he said, and she rolled her eyes. "Okay, listen here, missy," she turned to look at him, her eyes daring him to go on. "You're going to drink your beers and quit the water charade," she raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to protest, "you're going to smile like you actually want to be here with me," her face relaxed a bit, her eyes getting softer in expression, "and I promise, if you don't have any fun, we'll go and I'll never take you back here again."

She sighed as the beer landed in front of her. "Fine."

He grinned, "and by the way, what are you doing ordering Light?" She blushed, looking down at the table and took a sip of her beer. "So," he said, leaning in toward her, "Where do you think this girl got her clothes?" he pointed to a girl with a halter top made out of Winnie the Pooh fabric and a bright pink skirt.

"Um, grandma's closet," Pam replied, taking another sip of her beer and laughing. He grinned, "Oh, what about this contraption over here," she asked, pointing at a woman who was wearing knee high boots with a miniskirt and stockings, along with a sweatshirt from the Bahamas. "I guess she just wanted to dress up the bottom half?"

He laughed, rolling his eyes at her as they sipped on their beers. They'd each had two beers or so before she looked over at him, "Jim, can I ask you a question?"

"Yes?" he asked, smiling at her.

"Umm, nevermind," she said, quickly looking down and taking a gulp of her beer.

"No, what?" he asked.

"Why did you ask about Roy earlier?" she asked, and he took a deep breath. _Crap, what do I tell her? I want to be honest with her, but I want to protect her too. I want to be honest with her._

"I ran into him this morning," he replied matter-of-factly, and she looked down at her drink, fingering the handle of the mug.

"What did he say?" she asked.

He sighed, rubbing her back lightly, "just that he used to have to force you to do things, sometimes…"

She nodded lightly, staring at her beer before she downed the entire mug. She looked at him, anger in her eyes, "He said that? Just broadcasted it to you?"

Jim winced. "Uhm, yeah…"

"Why did you even talk to him?" she asked angrily, and he sighed.

"I didn't mean to… I was looking at the kites, and I saw him, and he saw me and said hi before I could get away. I couldn't just run off down the aisle."

"Sure you could have," she replied, laughing bitterly. "Was he with _her_?"

"Pam," he warned. She looked up at him, her eyes hurt and angry. "I'm not answering all of these questions."

"Why not?" she asked, and he could tell she was pissed.

"Because! I don't want you to drive yourself crazy over him. He's an ass, and you deserve better than him." She shook her head lightly, as the waitress brought her another beer. "You do, Pam. I don't know why you can't see that," he said, his voice stern.

She was silent for a moment, before she looked up at him, weak and pale. "Why are you mad at me?" she asked softly, and he looked over at her, before sighing and shaking his head, running his fingers through his hair.

"I'm not mad. I'm just sick of you downplaying who you are and how amazing you are," he said, and she looked away, tears in the corner of her eyes.

"You don't have to try and fix me, you know," she said softly, staring at her drink.

"I'm not," he replied, and she took a sip next to him. "I'm just trying to show you that you're worth fixing." She sighed.

"I'm hungry," she said, and he knew whatever fight they'd just had was over, as quick as it had began.

"What do you want to eat?" he asked, handing her a menu. She smiled, taking it from him and looking it over.

"Um, can I just get loaded fries?" She asked, and he looked at her, laughing.

"Of course," he said, and she smiled, biting her lip softly. He reached over and squeezed her shoulder softly, "Hey."

She turned to look at him and nodded, "I'm sorry too." He smiled at her and she smiled back, before flagging down the waitress and ordering an order of fries. "Can I ask you one more question?" she asked, timidly, and he looked over at her, knowing that for some reason this was a question she desperately needed to ask. It calmed him somewhat, and he resolved to answer her as honestly as he possibly could. He knew it would be a tough question, whatever it was, and no matter how painful it might be, he promised himself he would tell her the truth exactly as he saw it, regardless of how it would hurt her. He knew she deserved that. He kicked himself for ever wanting to protect her over being honest with her. After all, wasn't that what Roy had always done? Protected her over being honest with her? Without honesty, it had meant nothing.

He nodded, "anything."

She concentrated on his shirt for a moment, and he could tell she was wondering how to phrase her question. She opened her mouth once, and then closed it, before finally asking, "Why do you think Roy cheated?"

His eyes went wide and his face moved back slightly at the question, not necessarily out of shock at the content of her question, but more that she'd even asked it. She was becoming more and more bold, and he wasn't sure if it was because she was becoming more comfortable with him, or if it was because of the alcohol, but he was glad she was letting her guard down. He looked over at her, blinking a few times, and she was looking back at him, waiting for his answer.

"I really, honestly have no idea," he replied, and her eyes clouded over lightly. "I'm not saying that to spare your feelings," he said quickly, and she looked at him, confused.

"You're not?" she asked.

"No, I'm saying that because I truly have no idea why anyone would ever cheat on you," he said, and she smiled lightly. "The best explanation I can come up with is that he's a prick." She giggled lightly, and he smiled.

"Promise?" she smiled, and he nodded.

"Promise." They both reached in for some fries and their hands collided as they laughed, pulling at the same fry. They both let go, laughing, before she finally picked it up and plopped it in her mouth.

"Mine," she said grinning. He laughed, and the music overhead faded as the drunk duo performing stepped off the stage. Her eyes twinkled she looked at the empty stage, then back to him, then back at the stage again. "Come on!" she said, grabbing his hand, and his eyes went wide as he trailed after her, trying hard to swallow the french fry that was in his mouth. Before he knew it, they were both on stage and she was staring at him with wide, fearful eyes. "It's not as exciting now…" she trailed off, and he laughed, looking at her.

"You can do it," he replied, grabbing a microphone. "You're pretty enough nobody will even care how you sound." She laughed, and he smiled, whispering to her softly, "so shut up and go with it."

She grinned, looking at the screen as the words popped up, and he groaned. "You've got to be kidding me!" he said, into the microphone as the place erupted with laugher. She just grinned, patting his back lightly as the first verse appeared on the screen. _Hush, just stop… There's nothing you can do or say, baby. _He sang, and she smiled, watching him, and he could tell she was nervous. She started singing a bit shakily _I've had enough, I'm not your property as from today, baby. _He joined in with her, _You might think that I won't make in on my own, but now I'm stronger than yesterday, now it's nothing but my way. _He stopped singing, letting her finish the chorus in a strong voice, _My loneliness ain't killing me no more, I am stronger._

He laughed, and spoke into his microphone, "I can't believe she's making me sing Britney Spears."

She laughed, lightly, "I can't believe you know all the words!"

He turned red, singing into the microphone again, _Than I ever thought I could be, baby, I used to go with the flow, didn't really care about me. _He stopped singing to let her finish, and about half way into where the next line was supposed to start, she jumped, startled, "Oh! Whoops!" and began singing again. _Cause now I'm stronger than yesterday, now it's nothing but my way… _He joined in, putting on a fake falsetto voice, _My loneliness ain't killing me no more, I am stronger…_

He kept the falsetto voice through all of the ooh's and oh's, causing her to double over in laughter, unable to keep from giggling into the microphone. The whole bar was laughing at her, which only served to make her laugh harder. He read the next verse on the screen, a verse about being better off alone, but realized there was no way she'd be singing it, as her giggles had only escalated into the kind that came out of a three-year-old's mouth after thirty seconds of tickling. He rolled his eyes, laughing as she straightened up just in time to sing the last verse, giggles coming through until the only part you could really understand was _stronger_ over and over again.

The music stopped and she laughed as everyone laughed with them, pulling his hand back to their seat. He stared at her, a lopsided grin. "You just had to pick Britney, didn't you?"

"I know you're a closet fan," she smiled, taking a few more bites of her fries. "I'm ready now."

He laughed and stood up, leading her out of the restaurant. She ran to the car, giggling and he unlocked it quickly. "Are you drunk?"

"Mmmm," she replied, opening the door and getting in with ease, "Just a little bit tipsy, is all."

He smiled, "Well, let's get you home."

"Let's," she said, turning on the CD player to listen to her CD some more. He laughed as she sang along quietly with the words. He noticed how beautiful her voice sounded, light and breathy. He drove down the dark streets, a little slower than he normally did, wanting to hang on to the moment forever, the sound of her voice nearly lulling him to sleep. He got back to her apartment, too soon in his opinion, and walked her up the stairs to her apartment. She smiled at him and opened the door.

"Oh! Wait!" he said, and she looked at him for a minute as he raced down the stairs. He came back up a moment later and handed her the Dora kite. She laughed softly.

"Thanks," she said, as he handed her a bag of Hershey's kisses. "Mmm yummy!" she said, smiling. He smiled back, winking at her as she opened the bag. "Kiss?"

"Yes, please." He said, taking one from her as she chewed hers. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. Next week our date's going to have to be a little short."

"What? Why?" she said, and he was at least somewhat happy to see she was genuinely upset about it.

"I'm going to Grandma's, remember?" She laughed, pouting.

"Jealousy overcomes me," she said, and he laughed. "No, but really, it does. I love Grandma."

"Well, maybe we'll go see her again, sometime," he said, and she smiled, grinning. "Anyway, I'm going to have to leave here by about 2. Is that okay with you?"

She bit her lip, pretending to scratch her head, as she shut the door. "I guess so, but you better woo the hell out of me, Halpert."

* * *

So, not as UMPH as the last chapter, but, still a bit more into Pam and her healing... The next chapter is happier, I promise. And written, so when you hit my review quota, I'll send it your way. 


	13. L is for Lilies

Well, here you go...

And review replies:

Benjamin- Thanks so much! I would love to bash Roy completely, but, like you said, it's not really in Pam's character... But, he'll appear in conversation every now and then, and I'm sure Jim will take as many opportunites as possible to do so :)  
KathrynMae- It always annoys me when I see stories where Jim and Roy get into a huge fight... I mean, I have written one, BUT for the most part, I don't think it's in Jim's character. He's the type to step in front of Pam, but not the type to throw the first punch. Or even the second. :)  
Kerber- They're getting closer and closer. Setbacks on the way, but you know me. Could I ever leave you high and dry?  
Froody- Thanks! I'm trying to make this story have a clear character development throughout the chapters, so I'm glad you guys see that. What's a story without that, honestly?  
Shana- Thanks!!! I really appreciate it! Thanks for reviewing-it's great to interact with my readers!  
DeanParadise- Wow! What a compliment! You're fantastic, thanks!!! If you ever do see something that needs improvement, please let me know! I really want to get better!  
GlamGlitter- Oh, wow, thanks!! I'm so honored to hear that!!  
Absolution- They do, they do. How disgusting ;)  
Anon- Yep, different kind of K.  
Nutmeg- She is! She carries her backpack around and hops from train to train.. Uh...  
Madi- Well, things can only move so fast. Especially when you consider that at A, she had no interest in bewith with anyone, even Jim. In all normalcy, would that really change in 10 weeks? I don't think so, but feel free to debate me :) And yes, mucho healing.  
Coffee- Yes, it does. They smell like pie. I know because of Juno, not because of experience. Dwight, oh Dwight.  
KT- Thanks so much!! I try to make it as natural as I can... I guess, I do some sort of free association, but I'm not as scary as Faulkner, haha. It's really strange how these stories come out of me and develop. I never know exactly what's going to happen, I just go with what feels natural as I'm writing. I think that will be the last confrontation with Roy, but maybe a confrontation ABOUT Roy, if that makes sense. It will when I write it.  
Henantz- Yep. Exxxxactly.  
Eaglechic- Will do :) And Roy is a jerk!  
Katy- C is for Kickball, K is for Condoms. 10 weeks ago she's swearing off men, and now she's kissing one? Yeah, right Katy...  
Literati- I would like to as well.  
Ashley- Thanks! It definitely wasnt a top five (or meant to be). I hate Kmart. And Roy. So yeah, agreed.  
Squint- Thanks so much for reading and reviewing--I love having new fans/readers!! Dora scares me too.  
Alljn- Thanks so much! I really appreciate it!  
Dancer-Thanks! More convos about Roy coming up later, but yeah, we need Pam to get better!  
Melissa- Thanks! I'm feeling the pain of no office episodes too.  
Ruli- I'm so glad you love so much!! Haha. I had fun writing K, but it wasn't my favorite. Eh, Pam can't take off work to go to Grandmas! Are you crazy? heh.  
Alison- Thanks thanks thanks!! Yeah, can you imagine if that had actually HAPPENED?  
Yabberli- Oh, I know. Britney. Hah. And Dora, who doesn't have strange feelings about Dora?  
Liza- Thanks for reading/reviewing!  
Jgrrl- Here it is!  
Maddi- Thanks, doll. And yes, I have. He also sings karaoke in Email Surveillance. He has an absolutely splendid, turn me into butter type of voice.  
Danny- I hate Roy too. :(  
Christine- Well, thanks darling! You may be dissapointed at this chapter, though! Hah. Some people just open up when people get mad at them (Im one) and I think Pam is that way too. Shrug. Who knows? And somebody had to say the downplaying thing.  
JamFan- 1) Pam and Jim haven't kissed for a reason. Would Pam really be ready for this? I don't think so. 11 weeks ago she said she was swearing off guys, why would she kiss him now? How is that enough healing? And why would Jim let her. 2) I don't ask for reviews just to ask for them. I ask them for a reason, which I guess you don't understand. Your comment seems somewhat illogical to me, so the only way I can think to answer it is to explain myself. There are many reasons I ask for reviews. a) I think it's courteous to review stories you've read. I spend at least two or three hours on each chapter, and it's so disheartening when I upload them after spending so much time, see people have added it to alerts or favorites or whatever, and only get a few reviews. b) it helps me improve as a writer. When i get reviews that give me constructive criticism, I'm able to see my work from different light and look at it and examine how it is and what's wrong with it. Any writer should want reviews, and when a reader reads my stuff, I expect them to have thoughts on it. I want to know what they are so I can write better stories later and improve my skills. c) I like to interact with my readers/fans. This is a way I can do that. So, maybe you can tell me why you feel it "cheapens" the story. When you get GOOD reviews, it only adds to the story. I can't tell you the number of times I've asked for reviews, had someone give me criticism, and used that to improve my writing. d) A lot of times, people have criticisms of stories they want to voice, but they don't feel welcome to. This is my way of saying they're welcome to do so.

* * *

Pam got out of her bed lazily, stretching to the sky, a yawn covering her mouth. She walked over to the window in her bedroom where the sun was peeking through the blinds. She quickly opened them, letting the sun radiate inside of her room. She smiled, blinking three times, all of a sudden extremely aware that the sun was going to do nothing but fully wake her up. She heard the birds chirping outside, and she smiled, almost recognizing their song. She pursed her lips together and hummed softly, a tune from _Cinderella_ filling the room.

She looked over at the clock. _9:14. _She sighed. _The one Saturday I can actually sleep in, and here I am, up at 9:14. _She smiled, secretly happy to be up so early, as it would give her a chance to truly get ready for her date with Jim. She looked down at her toes, smiling _I actually will have time to paint them this morning. I just got that new toenail polish the other day… _She quickly walked into the bathroom, peeling off her camisole and pulling on the drawstring of her pants, letting them fall to the floor in a trail to the shower. She stopped, looking at herself in the mirror and smiled. _Wow… Is that really me? I actually look good! _She bit her lip lightly, watching her reflection in the mirror and smiled, for the first time noticing how beautiful her smile could truly be.

Stepping into the shower, she turned the faucet on, jumping back slightly at the first surge of ice cold water, letting Lamaze-ish sounds flow out of her mouth, as they did every morning when she tried to turn on the hot water, but the cold water came first. She waited out the storm, relaxing when the pitter patter of warm water hit her back. It slowly drained down the back of her and she smiled, staring at the linoleum walls of her shower. _It's just a lunch date, what are you so giddy about? _Her mind raced, and yet, she couldn't wipe the smile off her face. _What should I wear? Would he like the new skirt I just got? Ooh, or what about that sundress? Or my new jeans… _

She reached up and grabbed the purple bottle of shampoo, squeezing it into her palm and bringing it up to her nose to smell. _Mmm. God, what is that smell? _She turned the bottle over, reading the back for some sort of clue, hoping to uncover the secret of the smell that engulfed her. _Australian Ginger Extract and Australian Sea Kelp Extract. Australia sure does smell good. _She watched it foam in her hand before reaching up and running the shampoo through her hair, breathing in the scent. _Was it Herbal Essences that does the orgasm commercial? Because, I swear, I could get one from Aussie. _She ran her fingers through the curls before tipping her head back, letting the water run through the strands of her hair, washing away the shampoo and dirt that had once inhabited her head. She smiled, feeling the drops of water on her face. _I would love to just go run in the rain._ She giggled at herself, pulling her head back up and coughing lightly as some water got into her mouth that wasn't supposed to.

She grabbed the conditioner, pushing it through her hair, brushing it with her fingers. _L…We're on L, right? Yeah, I think we're on L… what could that possibly stand for? Lemonade. Lollipops. Laughter. Larry the cucumber. Lactose intolerance. Lake Scranton. Lindy's Chicken. Oww! That burns! _She brought her hand up to her eye, dropping the bottle of conditioner as she tried to rub out the soapy residue. When it was finally gone, she opened her eyes, aware that one of them probably looked like she'd just taken a whiff too many of something not so good.

She turned around, toward the spout, looking at all of the body washes that were there. She reached out, fingering them all. _Bath and Body Works Lavendar? Nope, too rip my clothes off… Um, Sweet Pea? Kind of sugary and sweet. Vanilla? plain… Honey dew? Perhaps…_ She pulled the bottle of honey dew scented body wash off the shelf, smiling when she reached the honey dew and vanilla. _That's the one. _She grinned. _Sweet, but not too sweet. It's like bland with an extra kick. _Pouring it on the loofah, she ran it over her body, gasping as the water turned colder.

She let it turn cold as it washed away the body wash, but then she turned it back to hot, soaking her hair under it for a moment longer, knowing that if she didn't, her hair would be a tangly mess. She turned the water off quickly after that, stepping out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her hair, and going over to the sink to brush her teeth and wash her face. She ran Listerine through her mouth, and then took one deep breath, exhaling in ecstasy at the coolness in her mouth. She grabbed a green, fluffy robe off the hook of her bathroom door and stepped into it, wrapping it around her. She tied it at the waist, before opening the door under the sink and grabbing her new nail polish and topcoat out.

_Creamy Orange Sickle? What kind of a color is that?_ She jumped on her bed, pulling her left knee up to her chest and tucking her right foot behind it as she unscrewed the cap. She painted slow, long horizontal lines, using the edge of her nail to wipe away any excess paint that got on her skin. When she'd finished all five toes, she blew on them lightly, before carefully letting her foot dangle over the side of the bed, starting afresh on her right feet. She blew on them lightly before grabbingthe top coat out, pulling her left foot up. She applied it to both of her feet, smiling as she wiggled her toes.

The phone vibrated against her comforter and she smiled, picking it up and reading the text message from Jim. _Go outside? What? Why? I'm in my robe! _She grinned, taking her phone with her and peeked outside of her door, seeing nobody standing there. She opened the door, a perplexed look on her face, when she looked down to see a bouquet of flowers on the ground. She smiled, picking them up, noticing a card right next to them. She brought them to her nose, smelling them. _What's he doing dropping off lilies at my doorstep?_ She backed inside her apartment, closing the door behind her. _God, I love the smell of lilies. _She fingered the white petals, biting her lip as she pulled out a vase from above the refrigerator.

_Vases..._ She smiled, remembering his story. _I'd throw it down and crack it right now, but I'm afraid the water would spill out, _she giggled to herself, filling the clear vase with water and setting it on the kitchen table, the lilies inside. She opened the cream vanilla envelope, smiling at the chicken scratch of her name on the front. She laughed, noticing a small drawing of a smiley face in the corner, though it looked more like a dog panting than a smiley.

She pulled out the card, a light, sky blue card with a patchwork pattern on the front, and she opened it, smiling when she saw his scrawl. _Pam. See you at 11. Miss you. _She smiled, the corners of her lips stretching thin. _Miss you… _She bit her lip lightly, letting out a soft squeal before she raced back into her room and to her closet, trying to pick out the perfect thing to wear. She reached down and felt her legs, remembering that she'd shaved yesterday morning. _Lucky for me, I'm the type that can go days. _She smiled, and proceeded to rummage through her closet.

* * *

Jim's alarm rang on his bedside table, and he groaned into his pillow, slamming his hand down against it. _9:11, already? _He groaned. He set his alarm clock on an odd number every day, knowing that it was ridiculous, yet somehow, it made him feel like he was getting up at a more accurate time. He kicked his feet against the covers, pushing them off his body and rolling over on one side like a fish out of water. He was thrashing around, and he wasn't sure why, but it was kind of fun. _You need to get up. You have to finish packing, call Grandma, run by the florist, get dressed, and pack lunches. And all of that before 11._

He sighed and got out of bed, trudging to the bathroom. It all sounded like a chore to him when he repeated it in his head. _It's not a chore, Jim. It's good. It's all for Pam. Pam. Pam. _He could feel the grin returning to his lips as he stripped off his clothes, climbing into the shower and started the water. He grabbed the bar of Irish Spring, running it over his body and through his hair. _Shampoo is overrated. These girls who have fifteen different types of body wash and shampoos and… what's conditioner for anyway? Honestly. Ridiculous. _He stepped out of the shower not twenty seconds later, soaked but squeaky clean. He grabbed one of the extra large towels that he unfortunately had to buy for himself for double the price and wrapped it around his body, grinning.

He grabbed his suitcase, throwing a few pairs of jeans, some t-shirts, and an extra bar of soap inside, before opening his deodorant, putting some on, putting the cap back on and throwing it in the bag as well. He threw in his camera, his laptop, and a few other random entertainment type gadgets, before he zipped it up and grinned. _Suitcase packed. Check. _

Grabbing his phone, he headed downstairs, dialing the number to Grandma's house as he walked. He pulled the phone up to his ear and opened the refrigerator door, pulling out stuff for lunch. "Hi, you've reached Gladys, if you're selling something I'm not interested," her voice came on the other line, and he laughed into the phone, pulling out the bag of ham.

"Grandma, it's me," he said, and she gasped in delight on the other line. _Oh, God, I'll never get off the phone. _"How are you doing, Grandma?"

"I'm just fine, boy. How are you doing? You sure are up early! I thought you scrawny boys like to sleep in late on the weekend," she said, and he smiled, spreading mustard over a few slices of wheat bread.

"Don't you remember? I get up early every Saturday now for my hot date," he said, pulling out slices of cheddar cheese and laying them on top of the mustard-coated pieces of bread.

"Oh, yes! Pam!" Grandma said, and Jim raised his eyebrows.

"You remembered her name," he said, his mind reeling. _Grandma never remembered names._

"Of course I did. She was darling," Grandma said, "Very transparent. I liked her. Have you kissed her yet?"

"Grandma!" Jim said, startled, dropping his knife on the floor. "No," he stuttered, putting the sandwiches together and in little bags. "We… We're just friends, Grandma."

"Oh please, boy," she said, and Jim could feel his cheeks turning red. "That girl ain't no more your friend that I'm a monkey."

He laughed, "Grandma, you're something else," he said, pouring some Pringles into a bag, and a brownie into another one. "Anyway, I was calling to let you know I'm leaving Scranton around 2, so I'll be there late tonight."

"You're leaving at 2? And you're not on your date yet? Boy…" she scolded and he grunted into the phone. "Fine, fine, I'll stop talking about her, but you best get your head on straight soon. Don't let a girl like that walk out on you."

"Why do you think I'm taking her on all of these dates, Grandma?" he said, sighing. "So, I'll see you tonight?"

"Unless I'm in bed, in which case you better not wake me because I might fall out of it," she said, and he laughed.

"I love you grandma…." He trailed off, waiting until she said it back before hanging up quickly. He tossed the phone on the counter, gathering all of the materials for lunch into one big bag, and then headed back upstairs. _Lunch, check. Grandma, check. _

He pulled out the cleanest pair of jeans he owned and a green polo shirt, running his hand through his hair quickly and glancing at the clock. _9:57. Shit, I gotta hurry. _He raced out the door, heading to the florists. _I really hope she's not allergic to lilies._

* * *

She smiled in the mirror, pulling back the curls that surrounded her face with a green butterfly barrette. _My hair looks really sunshiney-golden today… I wish I had the time and energy to curl it every day. It just gets so boring, and I hate having to get up early to do it._ She smiled, heading over to her closet, taking a quick look at the time. _10:39. Jim will be here soon, luckily, all I have to do is pick what I'm going to wear._

She thumbed through her closet. _I think I want to go dress, today. But casual… Nothing too stuffy or churchy or, 'hey, look at the ladies'. _She quickly ruled out the periwinkle bridesmaids dress she'd gotten at her cousin's wedding last spring, a sequined Christmas dress her mother had gotten her a few years ago that she still didn't wear, but kept in her closet just in case, and in the very back, a white wedding dress. She reached out, fingering the beading lightly. _Why do I still have this?_ She laughed. _I'm never going to wear it. Even if I do get married again, why would I want the same dress?_ She pushed it aside, grabbing out a green and white diagonal striped dress and covering her body with it quickly, smiling at how gorgeous she knew she looked.

She looked back at her closet, grabbing the wedding dress out of it and holding it up in the light, looking at it. _It's not as pretty as I thought it was._ She turned it around, placing it against her body. _Ugh, why did I ever want this one? _She stared at herself in the mirror, trying to figure out what to do with it, before her eyes lit up and she went running into the kitchen and laid it on the table, next to the vase. She quickly sat down, taking the scissors and cutting into the dress, feeling her heart lighten each time she snipped away at it.

She cut in jagged lines, cutting the pieces of fabric into squares and triangles, any sort of shape really, letting them fall to the floor. She was giggling as she did it, watching the pieces of her life that had once absorbed and contained her falling to the floor, broken and destroyed. She heard a knock at the door, and she knew she should go answer it, but she couldn't pry herself away from the scissors, or the scissors from the dress. "Come in!" she yelled, cutting the dress some more.

She heard the door squeak open and she squealed, cutting right through what had once been the favorite part of the dress. "Hi!" she said, turning toward him and smiling. He looked perplexed and bewildered, but smiled back at her.

"What are you doing?" he asked, and she cut another piece out.

"Just cutting up my wedding dress," she replied simply, and he sat down. "There are more scissors in the drawer, if you want to help."

He studied her for a moment. "You want me to help you cut up your wedding dress? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Mmhmm," she replied, and he got up, taking the scissors, and cut through the straps of the dress. She cut through the bust of the dress, grinning as it opened up, all of the beads on the top held together by one strand that split open, all of them falling on the hard wood floor.

"Is this what you do before all of our dates?" he asked, squinting at the fabric as he cut through it.

"Yep, I have 26 wedding dresses," she replied, giggling. "No, I just feel like it was about time to destroy this old thing."

"Any reason why?" he asked.

"Why do I need it?" she shrugged, looking up at him and smiling. "I'm not going to get married in it. I don't want to get married in it. It's time to move on."

He smiled at her, putting his scissors down slowly as he watched her cut the last parts of the dress. When every piece of it was cut, she leaned back into her chair, taking a deep breath. "Wow, that was liberating!"

He laughed. "Yeah, I bet." She smiled up at him, a twinkle in her eyes. "Are we ready?"

"Absolutely," he said, standing up. He grabbed a lily out of the vase and tucked it behind her ear, winking at her as she raced to the corner of the living room to slip on her white flip flops. She skipped to the door, holding it open for him and he laughed, walking out in front of her. She bit her lip, and then grinned at his back, euphoria seemingly overcoming her as she closed the door behind her. _Oh my god... He looks good._

She skipped down the steps to his car, bouncing beside him. He, like he always did, opened the door for her and helped her in, but for some reason, today it was different. It was as if all of her demons had somehow fallen on the wayside and it was just the two of them. Her and Jim. _Start fresh. Glued back together vase. Good as new._

She waited until he'd climbed in the front seat and she'd put on her seatbelt before she turned to him, tilted her head to the side and smiled sweetly, "Where are we going?"

He smiled at her, "I'll give you three hints."

"Okay."

"A blanket, a ham and cheese sandwich, and butterflies." She smiled at him.

"Lake Scranton," she said, grinning. "Beautiful."

"We're having a picnic. I felt bad about cutting our date so short." He said, and she smiled.

"That's okay," she replied. "I mean, I'm a little disappointed, but I'm just glad you didn't leave me completely dry. You know? L is for loser or something."

He laughed, "Oh, Grandma says hi."

She could feel her face light up. "Hi grandma!" He laughed, and she giggled, feeling like a school girl. _What is it about him that makes me erupt into giggles whenever we're together? _She stole a look at him, grinning as he pulled through the meter at Lake Scranton, paying the obligatory three dollars per vehicle. She hopped out of the car when they'd parked, and went around back, grabbing the two lunchboxes he'd gotten.

"Which one's mine? Dora or Power Rangers?" she teased, and he laughed.

"That's all they had, shush, you." She grinned, watching him pull out the soft blue blanket, folded up nicely for their adventure. He led the way to the lake, spreading out the blanket on the ground, and she kneeled down, trying her best to be lady-like. He sat down next to her, and she crossed her legs in front of her, losing her balance somewhat and falling into him.

"Oh, sorry," she giggled, sitting back up and opening her lunch box. "Ham and Cheese, I presume?" she lifted up the sandwich and he rolled his eyes.

"You're on to me," he replied. _Damn, that dress looks good on her. She's so beautiful. Especially when she laughs._

"Pringles, grapes, brownies," she said, going through her lunch. "A napkin." She pulled out the napkin unfolding it, and he grinned.

"Hi," she read aloud, and swatted him. "Thanks, that was so touching," she put her hand over her chest, as if to emphasize that her heart was warmed by his words.

He laughed. _I thought she'd like that_. "My mom used to write notes. But I didn't want to tell you to brush your teeth when you got home or stop watching Oprah."

"You watched Oprah? Tell me, little Jim, how did your five year old self like Oprah?" she teased, her smile infectious. _Keep smiling. Oh, god, I love that smile…_

"It was more like seventeen year old Jim, thank you very much," he said, taking a bite of his ham and cheese. _Seventeen? He's so adorable. And such a little kid._

"Oh, right. I should have known that the man who spends a week at Grandma's every summer still had mommy pack his lunch senior year," she grinned, and he shrugged, as if to say 'guilty as charged'.

She opened her Pringles, popping five in her mouth at a time. "I love Pringles," she said, her mouth not fully swallowing them even as she spoke. "They're so yummy."

He grinned, "Yep, they're definitely the best chip." She chewed in silence, taking a bite of her ham and cheese. "I like your dress," he said, knowing how juvenile it sounded. _I like your dress? That's all you can do? God, Jim, tell her she's beautiful or adorable or something. Not, I like your dress._

"Thank you," she said, tilting her head to the side and smiling over at him. "So, what are you and Grandma going to do this week?"

He blushed lightly. _Here goes your chance, buddy. Just let her know a little more about how old you're not_. "Normally we watch cartoons in our pajamas," he said, and she laughed.

"What kind of pajamas?"

He blushed, covering his face with his hands and let out a muffled sound. "Wamachujama."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" she said, pulling his hands from his face, and smiling. His face turned red.

"We have matching pajamas," he said, and she erupted into a fit of laughter, her feet kicking in the air.

"Oh my god, Jim!" she said, and he was blushing now. _I know, I'm five… Please don't tease me! _"Are they Superman?" She asked, turning to him, her face serious.

"Nope, Scooby Doo," he said, and she smiled.

"Good choice. Continue."

"We usually make pancakes or waffles or muffins or something together every morning. We'll have an outing after breakfast."

"An outing?" she inquired, and he looked over at her. She was grinning in that way that made him fall weak at the knees. The teasing sort of grin that even still made him want to tell her everything about his life because she cared.

"You know, the airport, the liberty bell… The cheese steak factory…" She nodded, and he continued.

"So, then we have lunch, and grandma takes a nap."

"In her Scooby pajamas?"

He laughed. "Yes, in her Scooby pajamas. And then we have dinner."

"What do you have for dinner?"

"Lamb chops, or Meatloaf, or Lasagna, or you know. Grandma recipes. And pie, we always have pie," he said, smiling. She smiled, scooting a bit closer to him, but he pretended not to notice.

"What's after dinner?" she asked, looking up at him.

"We play cards," he replied. "We drink water. Well she drinks water, I drink coffee… And we sit there and play a rousing game of cards. A lot of them, actually, About three hours every night of cards."

"Why cards?"

"They're entertaining. That's just what Grandma and her dad always did when she was young. They'd play cards. When she married my grandpa, they did it every night. It was how they 'kept the magic alive', according to her." Pam smiled, and he looked down at her, grinning. "I guess we just like it because it's fun, and we can talk about life while we play."

"So, you just sit there and have your own little philosophical discussions over Go Fish?" she asked, and he smiled.

"Yeah, actually. We talk about her and when grandpa was in the war, and what it was like when she was a kid. We talk about my mom and me when I was little. And about what she wants me to have when I grow up. The meaning of life, you know? That kind of thing. And we don't play Go Fish."

She smiled, _the meaning of life? I bet Grandma has some interesting things to say about that one! _"What do you play then?"

He grinned, "Well, Grandma always 'just found a new game' in the Hoyle book, so we play that one. And then we just make up our own games. We give them cool names and change the rules when one of us loses."

She laughed, "that sounds like a lot of fun." Her voice was soft, and when he looked back down at her, she'd reclined back, her left hand holding her up. She was staring out at the beach, a soft smile on her face. He watched her, smiling, unable to comprehend how wonderful it was to just be there with her.

"My grandma and grandpa live up in Michigan," she said, smiling. "Well, used to. They died a few years ago." She chuckled a bit to herself. "We used to have so much fun though. My grandma was very motherly. I remember when I was a kid, we used to go to her house and it always smelled like cookies. I asked her one time, when I was older, why, and she told me she just always wanted us to feel like we were special."

She smiled into the ocean, and he took the same stance, smiling as well, trying to imagine her as a child, hanging out with her grandma. She chuckled again. "There was this one time, when I was four or five, I think… We went up there for a week in the summer, and my grandma had this apron. She'd had it for as long as I could remember, and it had these red hearts, and these pictures of pies all over it," she gestured on her body to show him where the hearts were. "And I swear, she must have worn this thing to bed, because I never saw her without it."

She laughed, and he watched her, wondering how she could be so beautiful by just laughing. "Anyway, one day I was helping grandma cook her very famous macaroni," she smiled in a way where he just knew she was thinking about grandma's macaroni, and he couldn't help but smile himself. "And I guess we burned it or something, because it caught on fire." She was giggling now, and he stared at her, his mouth wide, laughter in his eyes. "And it caught grandma's apron on fire, and I remember… Oh god, this is horrible, I was so stupid."

She laughed to herself, staring up at him, and he laughed with her, looking at her expectantly. "I remember I told her she was on fire because I thought the apron was like, part of her body." She was laughing hard, her forehead nearly touching her knees as she doubled over, but the giggles were so loud he was drowning in them. He watched her, laughing himself, until she finally sat back up, sighing contently. "They were great. You would have liked them."

He smiled, "What was your grandfather like?" She laughed automatically, smiling.

"He had coffee with every single meal. It was like an epidemic or an addiction or something. I think it was impossible for him to _not_ have coffee," she said, and he smiled. "And he was very quiet. He was the kind of man that once he spoke, you listened. But he really loved us. I remember I never ever doubted that."

He smiled, nodding, listening to her go on. "He was the one person in my life, at that point, who was always happy to see me. You know? Whenever I came in the room, he just lit up, like there was nothing he wanted more than to see me standing there being obnoxious." She laughed, and he joined her, before she continued. "He really liked baseball. Like, a lot. He was a big Detroit Tigers fan, which, I'm sure you know, wasn't a popular thing to be." He laughed, nodding. "But every year we went. For 10 years. And every year, the day I went to the game, they won."

Jim's eyes went wide. "Wow, I need to take you to the Phillies games!"

She laughed, "Grandpa used to say I was their little good luck charm," She smiled. He smiled back at her. "Best grandpa ever," she said, as if her comment wasn't even open to an argument. He smiled.

"Mine died before I was born, which is I guess why Grandma and I are so close," he said, and she smiled up at him. "Grandma asked about you this morning, like, right away."

She laughed. "She did? Why?"

"I told her I had a hot date," he shrugged and she laughed. _Hot date? Okay, I'll take it. _"And she said, 'how is Pam?' which was weird because she never remembers my girlfriends' names."

"Girlfriends?" she inquired, raising her eyebrows.

"Past girlfriends," he rolled his eyes. "Only person I'm dating presently is you."

"Glad to know I'm your lonely only," she replied, laughing. She looked down at her watch, groaning. "Hate to be the breaker-upper, but you need to hit the road soon. It's 1:40."

"Oh, wow," he said, reluctantly sitting up and grabbing the bags and such from his lunch. "Yeah, I have a good six hour road trip."

"Make sure you say hi to sombrero man for me," she laughed, picking up her lunchbox. "I know he really liked me." She smiled. _You're not the only one_. They grabbed all of their stuff and trekked back up to the car. He put it all in the trunk while she got situated in the front seat. She was playing with the buttons on his radio when he climbed in the car and started her up, driving down the road. "What do you have in here?" she asked, going through the tracks.

"Just a random mix," he said, and she pulled it out, laughing. "Christmas with the boys?" She rolled her eyes, and he smiled. "I'll have to get you some tunes when we get back to my place. You can borrow them for the week. You shouldn't be listening to _Jingle Bells_ in August."

"I like _Jingle Bells_!" he protested, and she laughed. "It makes me happy."

"Like Scooby Doo pajamas," she teased, and he grinned, pulling into the parking lot of her apartment complex just as the clock hit two. He parked the car, going around the front to open the door for her. She rolled her eyes. _Always the gentleman…_

She led him up the stairs, and he trailed behind her, _God, she's got a great caboose._ He shook his head to clear the thought, _Jim, stop looking at her butt. It's not yours to look at!_ He grinned as she reached the door.

She opened it, and turned around, smiling at him. "Let me just grab you some music for the road," she hurried into the living room, picking through her CDs. _Oh, God, why am I so nervous?_ She fingered through her rock collection, pulling a few CDs out, and then she hit the Oldies, pulling out the classic _Beatles_, _Beach Boys_, and _Rolling Stones_ albums. She opened her CD player, pulling one CD out and hurried back to the door. "I have no idea where the _Wilco_ case is, so you better be good to her. She's my favorite."

He smiled, as she leaned against the door frame. "Absolutely, does she have a name too?"

"Of course," she winked. _Oh, god, not the wink…_ "But I'm not telling you until you get back from Philly. I don't want you going MIA on me."

"I promise I'll come back," he said, and she took a step closer to him, looking in his eyes. He licked his lips. _Oh God…_

She smiled, staring into his eyes, inching towards him. He stayed still, not backing up or moving forward, but he was smiling at her, and she could see in his eyes that he wanted this. She leaned up on her tippy toes, letting her hands rest on his face, and she leaned in, letting her eyes flutter closed.

He watched her, his heart fluttering inside his chest. _Oh God, Pam… She's not ready for this… I can't…God, I want to, but I can't_.

"I had a great time today," he blurted out quickly, and she opened her eyes, a confused look on her face, but he pretended to ignore it. She quickly pulled her hands off his face, and he smiled, "Thanks for the CDs."

"Sure," she replied, shuffling her feet. "Have a good trip."

"Will do. I'll see you next week. Call if you get bored," he said, and turned and walked down the steps and to his car, leaving her standing at the doorway, wondering what went wrong.

* * *

The phone vibrated against her bed, and she sighed, picking it up and looking at it. It was only thirty minutes after Jim had left, and she still didn't quite understand what had gone wrong between them. She was embarrassed, and hurt. _What was I thinking? Why did I ever think he wanted me to kiss him? Stupid, Pam, stupid!_ She reached over to her phone, opening it quickly, seeing the same message she'd seen earlier that morning. _I don't want to fucking go outside, Jim! God._

But yet, her feet propelled her toward the door, as much as her mind tried to keep her from going. She opened the door, looked down, seeing a bouquet of lilies and a note next to them and she sighed softly, picking them up in her arms. She carried them over to the vase and dropped them inside, stepping around the pieces of wedding dress that were left on the floor. She tore open the card and read the scrawl once more. _Pam. I really did have a great time today. You looked beautiful. Miss you already. PS. I love Wilco, too._ She sighed, setting the card on the table and smelling the lilies once more.

* * *

I know, you all hate me now. Sorry. But please, just trust me with this one :)

Also, please review. I'm not going to post a quota for this chapter, but I really would love to see what you have to say. Please, please, please include any criticisms you have about the story. That's my only stipulation. :)

Oh, also: If you're not already, read One Fine Day by Katy and I. It's on our joint account (AG.and.Katy) and can be found under my favorite stories :)


	14. M is for Mr Magorium

Well, here it is, our next lovely chapters. Now for the reviews:

Madi: Oh, okay! Thanks! I agree about Jims. There should be more. Here's the next chapter!  
Ash- YES! You got the Ellen reference! I was wondering if anyone else would!! She's fantastically funny!  
Dancer- Here's more!  
Ashley- It might seem like it's been dragged on forever, but for them, it's only been 11 weeks and that's way soon when you just got your heart broken. :) Grandma seems to be everyone's favorite character!  
Literati- Eh, they may someday.  
Roy- Hmm... I try and make it easy to read without putting someone's name next to every line, just because I think sometimes conversations are fast and I want to portray that... Safe bet is everytime they start a new paragraph, it's a new person speaking.  
Henantz- Yes, and please trust me even after this chapter :)  
"DM"- Good, I'm glad you trust me. THEY are building her back up, but that's about to change.I'll definitely watch all of the deleted scenes, etc. Sweet deal. And thanks!  
Lunar- Scooby Doo! Scooby Snacks? And I didn't even NOTICE the color coordination! Wow! You're smarter than I am, haha!  
Kerber- Yeah, I didn't want him to just leave her COMPLETELY confused... So I'm glad you enjoyed that part. It seemed Jim-like, at least to me.  
Maddi- You're positive? Wow. I'm absolutely, 100 percent positive that he WOULD leave a kiss there. Look at it this way: he has Pam. he knows he has her. But he needs her to heal, and he needs her to know that she doesn't have to put out or do all of these things she's trying to do to get him to love her. he knows she's not ready, and he is not the type to push. I think if you really think about who Jim is and what he's like, you'll see he would back away. If he gave up that part of his character just because it's Pam, she'd be settling.  
Amelia- No, just engaged. It's pre-CN. Her caboose. Jeez.  
KT- That seems to be the general concensus, so thanks! It'll be a mix of what you want, so... Yeah. The wedding dress comes back later :) Well, I tend to get about 10 reviews less if I don't "beg" for them, and a lot of times, the 10 non-faithful reviewers have really good things to say. It's all about improving the story and the writing. It really annoys me how people think it's SUCH an EFFORT to review. It's a little tiny button. And once again, thanks for understanding!  
GlamGlitter- Oh, I'm sorry I broke your heart :) It'll come, eventually. Grandma! YAY  
Christine- Oh, don't worry. Just trust me. This chapter will seem like it should worry you a lot more, but I promise, from here on out, it's climbing back towards good. And you WILL like the chapters after that, I promise. I understand your fabric softener-soap deal... I can see your point, but I can also see Jim just deciding he didn't need it. Hah.  
Eaglechic- They'll kiss eventually! And thanks! I hope you enjoy this chapter too.  
Katy- Yeah, I wish I could spend a week with my grandma. And Jim is a gentleman, but that doesn't mean he won't get crap for it!  
Christine- Haha. Well, not quite, but somewhat.  
Bravery- SO CLOSE! it's like that little DVD cube, going for the corner and you think it's gonna hit... and then it doesn't. Jim is a sexy beast. Jim is a very sexy beast.  
Claire- Eh, he's not quite a loser. He's just trying to do the right thing. And Grandma probably did hit him across the head, but we don't know and we probably won't find out. As far as the horrible comment, do you mean the writing was horrible, or just the fact that it happened? I'm curious to know.  
Kathryn Mae- Um, yeah, no. I have no idea if he could. It may happen soon. And thanks so much for the compliments! You're a fantastic reviewer!  
Amanda- I agree. It's like, "is the magic gone?" Yep, and the wedding dress will return someday...  
Nutmegg- Thanks! I wasn't sure if I wanted to do that!

* * *

"Hi, Pam, I just wanted you to know I got here safe. It's almost one in the morning, so you're probably asleep or watching _Three's Company_ or _All in the Family_ or something, but I'm here and safe. And so, just wanted to let you know. I'll talk to you later. Have a good Sunday. Bye."

* * *

"Beesly, I just saw this and thought of you. There is a sale of rubber duckies in the Philly Toys R Us. I'm buying a pack, I think."

"You are a dork."

"What?"

"You see rubber duckies and you think of _me_?"

"Wouldn't that make you the dork? People see rubber duckies and think of you."

"Correction, YOU see rubber duckies and think of me."

"Only if they're on sale."

"Halpert, you're ridiculous," the line went silent for a moment, before, "How much are they on sale for?"

"Depends on the ducky, naturally," he said, and she could tell he was rolling his eyes. "This pack is for 5.97. It's got the big mama ducky with the flat butt thing that holds the other three rubber duckies they sell with it. Not bad, right?"

"Are they the squirty kind?"

"How can you tell?" he asked.

"Um, it'll have a hole somewhere?"

"Oh, umm… yeah, there's one. Do you want the squirty or no?" He asked, and she could hear him ruffling through the bin.

"Yes, otherwise bath time isn't as much fun," she replied, nodding to herself.

He laughed, "Okay, you're about to be the proud owner of a new set of rubber duckies."

"Yay!" she squealed. "Hey, are you in the baby section?"

"Yes, what do you need?" he asked, heading down one of the aisles. "Wait, do you need something from the baby section? Is there something you're not telling me?"

She giggled. "I dare you to pick up one of the little frog wrap up towel things for babies… You know, with the ears, and it's like a robe? Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"Um, yeah, I think I see them."

"Okay, pick one up, and I want you to go ask the manager if they have it in a bigger size," she replied, and he laughed.

"You got it."

* * *

"Hi, it's me. It's 9:22 on Monday morning and I'm already about to die. Apparently, _Not Another Teen Movie_ is today's viewing choice. I need to go make popcorn in a minute, but you suck. That's about it. Tell Grandma I said hi."

* * *

"Dunder-Mifflin this is Pam?"

"Uhh, hey."

"Oh my god, hey!"

"So, how's the office?"

"Oh, my God! Dwight came in lecturing Ryan on his shaving habits, you know, because he's a wolf's descendant and everything… and Stanley is doing Sudoku today."

"Stanley is doing Sudoku?" he asked, and she could hear the disbelief in his voice.

"Yes! I'm telling you, when you're gone, you throw everything off balance!" she laughed. "Wait, are you telling me that I tell you Dwight was telling Ryan how to properly shave his wolf face, and all you hear is about Stanley and his Sudoku?"

"Well, you gotta admit, Pam, the Sudoku is a little weird…"

She smiled. "What's grandma up to?"

"She's baking a pie."

"Naturally," she smiled. He laughed. "Oh, I gotta go, Jan's beeping in. Bye Jim."

"Bye."

* * *

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Call me back. Oh my god."

* * *

"Hey stranger. Sorry I'm just now returning your call. Most people sleep at midnight on Tuesdays. Well, at least when they aren't on stinking vacation like _somebody_. Anyway, I know, I stink, but Michael had our entire office go to the Piggly Wiggly to prepare for the famine that he heard is hitting Pennsylvania. None of us have actually heard of it, but hey, whatever. Anyway. You sounded pretty excited in your message, so call me ba...oh, wait you're beeping in!"

"Hey!"

"God, it's about time!"

"What's happened?"

"I think grandma has a boyfriend!"

"Grandma? Really? Dish, now!"

"Well, the phone rings every afternoon at exactly 1:34, and Grandma always picks it up on the first ring, and then goes into her room to talk. I hear her laughing all the time. And, we baked three pies yesterday, and two of them are gone! And she keeps shoo'ing me out of the house! That's how I found your rubber duckies!"

"Have you asked her who the guy is?" Pam was more excited than she probably should have been. "Jim, I'm dying here!"

"She won't tell me who's on the phone! But I think later when she makes me go on my afternoon errand, I'm going to circle the neighborhood, see if I can figure out where all the pies went."

"You better call me, Halpert. I need every single detail!"

"I will. Who else would I call?"

"Has Grandma ever had a boyfriend before?" she asked.

"Not since Grandpa! This would be her first," he said, and she could hear his excitement. "She's been asking about you."

"What has she been asking?"

He faltered for a minute, "Just stuff like how you're doing, where we're going next… How you got to be so pretty… How I got a girl that was that pretty… That kind of thing."

"I'm sure you told her that you don't have me," she replied, a little more hurt in her voice than she intended. He didn't say anything for a moment.

"Well, it was nice talking to you. I'll keep you updated."

"Jim, I'm—" and the line went dead.

* * *

"Crunchy or Smooth?"

"What?"

"Crunchy or Smooth, Halpert? It's a very serious question." She rolled her eyes.

"What for?"

"Peanut butter, idiot."

"No, what are you using the peanut butter for?"

"PB and J."

"Crunchy. Wait, what kind of jelly?"

"Beet."

"Shut up."

She giggled. "Strawberry, of course. Jif or Skippy?"

"Jif."

"What would I do without you?"

"Buy a frozen dinner?"

"Probably," she laughed. "When are you coming home?"

"Tomorrow night, late," he replied. "Around midnight, probably."

"Oh."

"Will you be up then?"

"I'll be watching _Three's Company_ in my pajamas."

He laughed. "Well, I'm sure I'll see you sometime this weekend."

"What?" she asked quickly.

"I'll see you Saturday, of course," he replied, chuckling. "Don't have a hissy fit."

"I'm not," she said crossly.

"Okay."

"I'm not!"

"Okay."

"I have to go! Bye!" she said, and hung up the phone.

* * *

"Okay, so, I hid the phone last night from Grandma. When he called at 1:34 this afternoon, I picked up, and he didn't know what to do, but I was talking to him. His name is Jesse and, get this, Pam, he's like 50! He's a youngin! That's like… Michael, or something. Anyway, call me back. I'm going to get the scoop from Grandma."

* * *

"Jim! Scoop me, baby!"

* * *

"Why are we playing phone tag? Call me back, now."

* * *

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's Baskin Robbins!"

"Whatever, dork."

"Telllllll meeeeeeee," she begged, and he laughed.

"Okay, so, like I said. He's Jesse. And he's 62. 62, Pam!"

"Wow… that's like Phyllis…"

"I know, right? Grandma is like 80!"

"I don't think your Grandma is 80, Jim."

"She's not? How old do you think she is?"

"She's like, at least 82 or 83."

"Shut up," he laughed. "So, this Jesse character drives a Harley, loves Strawberry Rhubarb pie, and guess where they met?"

"Where?" she asked, excitedly.

"A senior mixer in the area. They were the only two drinking Jack Daniels at their bingo table."

"Oh my god!" Pam laughed. "I can totally see your grandma downing Jack at the bingo table!"

"I know, it totally fits her," he laughed. "So, I met him. He's pretty nice. And I have more news."

"What?"

"Are you sitting down?" he asked.

"No."

"Sit down," he commanded.

"Okay."

"Are you sitting down?" he asked again.

"Yes."

"Grandma's engaged."

"What?" she gasped.

"Yes."

"No way."

"Yes."

"Grandma? Engaged?!"

"Yes."

"Oh my god… How long has she known this guy?"

"Six weeks."

"Oh my… When's the wedding?"

"Not sure yet, but I have more news for you."

"Oh, God! What now? Is Grandma pregnant?!" she asked, and he laughed.

"Grandma will be calling you shortly. She wants to get your address to invite you to the wedding."

"What?"

"Yeah. I don't know. Go figure."

"I would have thought she'd just invite you and make you bring me," she smiled.

"Oh, that's the other part. Neither of us get to bring a date!" He laughed, and Pam joined in, grinning.

"Grandma sure is something else."

* * *

They'd spoken twice on Sunday, twice on Monday, once every other day, and four times on Friday. Each time, they'd come up with a reason to call, neither one of them wanting the other to know that really, they just missed each other's voices. She'd stand by the phone, pacing back and forth for a few minutes before calling him. He'd wonder why she hadn't called him back; she'd wonder how long she needed to wait to return his call. If they'd actually called each other every time they wanted to, without worrying about appearances, they probably wouldn't have ever hung up the phone. 

She'd sit at work, chin in her hand, yawning all day. She couldn't sleep with him in Philadelphia, and she wasn't sure why exactly, she just knew it had something to do with too many thoughts running around in her head since there was nobody to share them with. She'd lay awake at night, talking to the ceiling, pretending he was talking back. He'd answer her in her head, and sometimes, she thought she captured what he would have said perfectly. For a moment, it was almost like she was actually having a conversation with him.

He'd sit there, dealing cards, listening to the sound that came as they hit the table, the small swishing sound they made against the wood reminding him of her, how she loved to hear it. He remembered how she'd save the best cards in Free Cell until the perfect moment, when she could hear that sound, rather than just the monotone click-click-click of the one card maneuver. He couldn't go anywhere in Philadelphia without thinking of her. Even the aisles at Toys R Us reminded him of her, and he wasn't quite sure how to cure himself of that.

When her mother called her on Tuesday night, she'd inwardly groaned, upset to not hear the familiar Latin ring she'd picked specifically for him. It had come to the point where whenever she heard the normal ringing of her phone she sighed inwardly, upset that anyone else would even think to call her. She'd picked up, putting on her best cheerful voice, but there was no way she could fool her mother. The only person that couldn't really pick up the disappointment in her eyes and voice when anyone other than him called, was him. After all, when she was with him, cheerful was something she couldn't turn off.

Even Grandma's pies couldn't lull him out of the spell she'd put him in. Normally, the blueberry tang or cherry tart could erase all of his thoughts and problems, or at least delay them for the moments the pie was in his mouth. She absorbed his thoughts, pulling him away from the distractions of life and forcing him to center his around her. A week at Grandma's, which had normally served to be a welcome break from reality, a way to regain his composure and maintain a sense of calmness, had failed to do its job, as all he could think about was getting back to reality, getting back to the dream of Pam.

She thought about the almost-kiss. The way his eyes had darkened lightly. The way he'd licked his lips, watching her inch towards him. The way he hadn't jolted away when she'd touched his face, her hand running over the stubble on his cheeks. The way she'd almost felt his lips, how she'd craved for that contact, and then he'd pulled away, so quickly, quick to tell her he'd had a good time. How confused she was at his sudden pull-back, and even more confused at the flowers and note that he'd delivered to her doorstep just thirty minutes later.

He thought about their almost-kiss. The way she'd so obviously wanted him, but the nagging feeling in his chest that it wasn't right. Not yet. It wasn't that he didn't want to kiss her; he desperately wanted to kiss her with every fiber of his being. But there was something about her, leaning towards him, just hours after he'd seen her cutting up her wedding dress, that just felt so wrong to him. So unreal. He didn't want to rush her, and he knew her well enough to know that sometimes, she rushed herself.

His drive home from Philadelphia seemed to last longer than it had to, the seconds turned to minutes faster than light, and the minutes turned to hours slowly. His normal endurance for car rides was slowly dwindling, and by the second hour into the trip he was fidgeting, his foot was heavy against the gas, and he couldn't even rationalize going below 88. About thirty minutes from Scranton, the lights of the State Trooper came on, pulling him to the side of the road. He sighed, his head against the steering wheel. All he wanted was to get home to her.

The couch was uncomfortable under her, the thin fabric of her pajama pants not providing enough of a barrier between her skin and the itchy fabric of the couch. She couldn't seem to get comfortable, and even with a pillow under her head and a comfortable down blanket, and the familiar theme song of _Three's Company_ in the background, she couldn't get comfortable. Her anxiousness for tomorrow and her loneliness from the week had caught up with her, and now, all she could be was restless.

She jumped when she heard the familiar ring across the room, a huge smile spreading across her face as she ran to it, flipping it open quickly, "Hi."

"Hey," he said. His voice sounded so welcome, comforting to her. "On a scale of 1 to 10, how tired are you?"

"Negative five," she answered, smiling. "Where are you?"

"I'm in Scranton," he said, "Are you feeling up for a visitor tonight?"

"Yes!" she said quickly, a little too enthusiastically. She smiled, chuckling lightly. "Right now I have Janet and Chrissy and Jack over, but I think you'd fit right in."

"Oh, good. I always had kind of a thing for Chrissy."

"Really?" she laughed, heading to her room to put on a t-shirt, trying to cover up a little bit.

"Neah, I like brains." He laughed and she pulled the shirt over her head, not quite hearing whatever he was saying, hoping she hadn't missed anything truly important. "So, I'll be there in like ten minutes? Is that okay?"

"Yep, let yourself in," she said, hanging up the phone and racing to the living room, throwing away the ice cream container she'd been eating out of. She washed her hands quickly, letting the stickiness of the ice cream residue wash off them, before quickly loading the dishwasher. She sighed, looking over at the table where all her art supplies were out, shrugging. There was no way she'd get them all picked up in the seven minutes she had left, so why even try?

She heard the door open, and she smiled to herself, pushing the door to the dishwasher up, and running into the living room. He smiled at her, shrugging a bag and two coffees in his hands. She raced toward him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He smiled, "Hey there." She bit her lip, stepping back quickly, and returned his smile.

"Whatcha got there?"

"Chai Tea for you, Mocha for me," he replied. "Unless you want the mocha, but I know you're more of a Chai fan." She smiled, nodding.

"You sure have my breakfast down pat," she replied, and he laughed.

"Chai tea, mixed berry yogurt, and an English muffin, toasted, with butter," he said, and her eyes went wide for a minute, before she grinned. "I'm onto you."

She smiled, looking down at the bag, a green and purple striped one that looked like it was the type of bag that was constantly recycled for the next occasion one had to give a gift. He smiled, handing it to her, "I got something for you."

"What is it?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. "You didn't have to get me anything, but really, what is it?" He laughed as her eyes lit up, and she pulled the green tissue paper out of the bag, peering inside. "Oh my god!" she squealed, pulling out a wooden box. "Mancala, are you kidding me? I love this game!"

"Oh, it's more than just Mancala," he said, nodding. She grinned, looking up at him quizzically. "Open it, we'll play. It's a special Philly version."

"Does it have cheese steaks on it or something?" she asked, teasing.

"That, _and_ the liberty bell," he said, grinning. "And all sorts of random brotherly love type things. Each little hole is a different cool thing about Philly." She laughed, "Except one, which was kind of raunchy, so I taped a picture of Grandma over it."

She giggled, grinning. "Fantastic!" she squealed, opening it up and sitting on the floor with it. "Oh my god, the marbles are little bells! Jim!"

He laughed. "I know, it's awesome, right?"

"Yes, thank you," she smiled and he winked. A slight blush crept into her cheeks, and she stood up, "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Um, I've got my mocha," he said and she laughed.

"Oh, right." She sat back down, clapping to herself as she took a handful of marbles, dropping one in each of the small wooden cutouts in the board. "So, miss me?" she smiled, looking up at him for a moment and then back down at the board.

"Psh, of course," he said, laughing, flashing her a lopsided grin. "Wow, you're like a Mancala master? What's going on, there?" he said, the fifth time she'd dropped a marble in her side in one turn.

"I used to play this all the time at summer camp," she smiled, laughing. "We went to this day camp at this church, and they had a pool and a game room and all sorts of really cool stuff. We'd go in these rotations, and whenever we went to the game room, we _always_ played Mancala. I got pretty good at it."

He smiled, "Yeah? Did you kick the girls asses?"

"Psh, of course," she said, mimicking him. "I was the best Mancalist there was. I could Mancala with the big girls."

"Oh, Beesly, steppin' it up, huh?" He said, grinning. She continued going with the marbles, laughing lightly. Her brow furrowed as the last marble dropped in an open slot and she groaned.

"Damn."

"Oh, we're not playing solitaire?" he grinned, picking up a group of marbles and discarding them one by one.

"Bad start," she smiled, watching him.

"Oh, come on, I'm not doing too bad."

"You won't make it past three rounds," she said, shaking her head. "Hey! Don't you know how to play? You can't put that marble in my bin, idiot."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I'm not really skilled in the Mancala department, I guess…" She laughed.

"I've noticed." His last marble landed in an empty slot, and he watched her as she concentrated on the board. "I think that—" she put her hand up, shushing him, and he watched as she counted each one of the little slots.  
"Ooh!" she squealed, picking a group of marbles up and softly putting them one by one in the slot, gathering the group of marbles in her hand and putting them in the slots. "I'm gonna win," she sang, and he laughed, watching her as the last marble landed in her bin.

"Oh my god, Beesly," he said, his mouth dropping. "I have three marbles. That's it! Three! And I used to be a pro at this game!"

"A pro with who? Your pre-school class?" she said, ducking her head back and forth.

"Oh god, is that trash talk from Pam?" he asked, and she laughed, shrugging and making her characteristic trash talk face. "Good game."

"Mmhmm, I love solitaire," she said, grinning, putting the marbles back into the slots at four each. "I can't believe you found this game," she said, looking up, smiling. "I seriously have been looking for it forever. I can't find it anywhere." He smiled. "How did you know I wanted it?"

"I didn't," he shrugged, and she smiled. "Don't you remember, I'm on to you?"

She smiled. "You're on to me." She picked up the marbles and started again, grinning like a child on a winning streak as he sat and watched her, thinking that he'd lose at every game as long as he could see her smile like that.

* * *

He woke up the next morning on an unfamiliar couch, a quilt covering him and a pink pillow under his head. _Where am I? _He sat up, clutching his back and rubbing his eyes. _Why does my back hurt so much? Oh man, I'm in her apartment._ His mind whirled as he thought about what had happened the night before. _I don't remember drinking anything… God, I hope it's because I didn't… But we're not in bed together, so nothing happened, right? _He looked around, spotting the Mancala board on the ground, the marbles all over the floor. _Oh, that's right. We were playing Mancala and then we watched that movie on TV… What movie did we watch?_

He heard her voice behind him, "Good morning sleepyhead," she said, and he turned around to see her at the stove, pushing something around in a pan with a spatula.

"Hi," he said, smiling, getting up out of bed, his jeans sticking to him in a way that was a little off, as was normally the case when one slept in his clothes. "I guess I fell asleep, huh? I'm sorry…"

She smiled, waving it off, "don't be. You weren't too much hassle asleep." He grinned, walking into the kitchen. "I'm making eggs," she said, turning toward him. "How do you like your eggs? You know, I have no idea."

"How do you like them?" he asked, raising his eyebrow. She shook her head.

"Nope, you might go all _Runaway Bride_ on me," she grinned, and he laughed.

"I'm a scrambled fan, myself," he said, peering over her shoulder and into the pan to see the beginnings of scrambled eggs.

"Good," she said, grinning. "I don't know how to make any other kind. Runny makes me gag."

"Me too," he said, high-fiving her, and grinning. "Do you have any bacon in this joint?"

"Yes," she said, without looking up. "If you go into my bedroom, there's a foreman grill plugged in right beside it. There should be a few strips of bacon laying out."

"Okay," he said, moving in that direction. She turned and watched him, a smile on her face. He'd just reached the end of the kitchen floor before he turned around, laughing. "Good one."

She grinned, "Thank you. There might be some foot in the freezer, too." He laughed, opening the freezer door and pulling out the bacon.

"Do you mind if I make it?" he asked, and she shook her head lightly. "Do you like bacon?" he asked, for the first time realizing he had no idea.

"No, I just buy it to keep it in my freezer," she replied, stirring the eggs.

"Wow, you're a sarcastic one today." He pulled out a pan from one of the cabinets below and placed the strips of bacon across it, frying them. "How long have you been up?"

"Not long," she replied, scooping the eggs on a plate. "Maybe ten minutes?"

"A woman that makes eggs the moment she wakes up?" he asked, grinning. "That's what every man wants."

"Mmhmm," she said, putting the plates on a table. "Milk or juice or water?"

"What kind of juice?"

"Um, apple."

"What kind of milk?"

"Skim."

"What kind of water?"

"Cold."

He grinned, "I'll have apple juice." She rolled her eyes, pouring two glasses and setting them on the table. He flipped the bacon once more, pulling the pan off the stove as she set the forks on the table. He scooped the bacon on to a paper plate and set it in the middle of the table, sitting down to eat. She was still standing up, and he looked at her, and she smiled.

"Anything else I can get you?"

"You know what I would really love?" he asked, and she smiled, shaking her head. "If you'd come sit down."

She laughed lightly. "I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed," she pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. She took a bite of her eggs, grinning, and he stood up, opening her fridge. "What are you getting?" she asked, watching him.

"Ketchup," he replied, and she made a face. "What?!" he asked, his mouth open, pieces of chewed bacon rolling around inside.

"That just sounds disgusting."

"No, Beesly, you gotta try it," he said, dipping a piece of egg into the ketchup and moving his fork towards her face. She grimaced and pulled away slightly, but he just continued. "Just try it, once. I'll never bother you with it again, I promise," he said, and she opened her mouth, leaning toward him to bite it off his fork. She chewed slowly, pursing her lips, her eyes rolling upward slightly as if she was deciding if she liked it.

"Okay, it's good," she said, laughing, taking the ketchup bottle from him and putting some on her plate. They finished eating around the same time, and she stood up, reaching for his plate, but he put his hand over hers.

"No," he said, and she looked at him, upset.

"I've got to get it cleaned up or else it'll…" she trailed as she saw him shaking his head. She sighed audibly, and he grinned.

"I'll do the dishes," he said, and she smiled, arching her eyebrow lightly. "You go do whatever you need to do to get ready for our date."

"Okay," she said skeptically, heading toward her room before stopping and turning to him. "Seriously? Men do dishes?"

He laughed, "It's one of our many capabilities, yes." She twirled around, her back to him, and walked into her room, shutting the door behind her. He picked up both of their plates, setting them in the sink as he put back the ingredients for their makeshift meal away. He grabbed the pan by the handle, jumping back slightly at the bit of warmth that still radiated from it. "Ow," he said, to no one in particular, turning on the cold water and running his hand under it.

He grabbed the soap and scrub brush, scrubbing the dishes the old fashioned way, recognizing that inside the cupboard there weren't many clean. If she planned on having dinner that night, she'd appreciate that he scrubbed them by hand. He'd just finished the forks and had rinsed the plate when he heard the home phone ring. _Should I answer it? It's not my phone… It's probably just a solicitor anyway. I'll let the machine get it. _Around the seventh ring, he seriously began doubting his original thoughts, and when it reached nine with no machine picking up, he realized that she probably didn't have an answering machine like he'd thought.

The caller hung up, and he shrugged, going back to his pans when he heard the ring again. _Now I really should answer it. What if it's an emergency? It would have to be for someone to call twice in a row… They probably tried her cell phone to no avail. It's the right thing to do, right?_ He rationalized, pressing the talk button and bringing the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" he said, opening a drawer and looking for a scrap piece of paper to take a message.

"Hi…" the voice trailed. "Do I have the wrong number? I could have sworn I programmed it in my cell phone correctly."

"If you're trying to reach Pam, you do," he replied, smiling to himself. "She's in the shower, this is her friend Jim."

"Jim?" the woman's voice sounded warm and familiar, but surprised. "Jim Halpert, Jim?"

"The one and only," he said nervously, wondering who the woman was. He gave up his search on paper, figuring he could probably remember whoever was calling since they seemed to know enough about Pam to know who he was. It made his heart flutter knowing that she'd mentioned him enough that someone would remember him by his name, without ever talking to him.

"What are you doing at my daughter's apartment this early in the morning?" she asked, a pleasant curiosity in her voice. _Pam's mom. Ohhhh._

"Oh, it's a long story, but I was in Philadelphia this week and we hadn't seen each other in a while, and I got back in late last night and she was still up, so I came over and visited her and I guess I fell asleep on her couch," he said.

"That doesn't sound like a long story," her mom said, and he laughed lightly. "What's my daughter doing right now?"

He headed toward her room, his ear against the door, "Um, singing in the shower. Sounds like an old Sinatra."

"Sinatra's not that old," she replied, and he laughed, his cheeks turning red. _Whoops. _"So, where are you taking my daughter today?"

His eyes went wide, and he chuckled. _Great, this is just the way to impress her mom… Jim! Why do you need to? _"Well, this is going to sound horrible, but McDonalds."

Her mom laughed into the phone, and at first, Jim felt relieved to hear the familiar sound. Her laugh was almost entirely like Pam's. A little bit softer, but just as full of expression. "I hope you're not making a habit out of the value menu, son," she said, and he found himself shaking his head vigorously, "she's worth a lot more than chicken nuggets… or whatever's in those things."

"Oh, I absolutely agree," he replied quickly, genuinely. "You just happened to catch me on the beginnings of my least romantic date ever." He smiled. "Well, that's not entirely true because any date with Pam is romantic, but McDonalds isn't exactly the kind of place to set the mood…" He was rambling, and she laughed.

"No, I understand. She told me about your trip to Lake Scranton last week. She really enjoyed the picnic," her words were genuine, he could tell, but there was something in her voice he couldn't place.

"Yeah, we had a good time," he said, and he heard a slight sound on the other line, and all of a sudden, he knew why. "Oh… she told you about the end of the date."

He stated it as if it was a fact, but really, it was more of a question. He desperately wanted to know how she'd felt, and if he knew Pam at all, he knew the first person she'd talk to about him would be her mother. "Yeah," her mom said, and he could hear a slight disappointment in her voice. "You backed away, apparently."

"Not because I wanted to," he said, sitting down.

"Then why did you?" she questioned, and he sighed, rubbing his hands over his forehead.

"She's not ready yet," he replied. "She has a tendency to rush things, and I don't want her to do that with me… I don't want her to feel like she has to."

"Jim, you can't decide if she's ready or not. That's her decision," she said, and he sighed. _I knooooow. And don't you think I've been kicking myself for not kissing her? I just didn't want anything bad to happen because of it._

"What did she say to you?" he asked, and the woman sighed, silent for a moment.

"I don't want to say too much to betray her feelings to you, but she was disappointed," she said, and his heart fell.

"Embarrassed disappointed?" he asked.

"Yes," she said slowly, "but it was more than that. She thought she figured out what you wanted, and she wanted it too, and then she put herself out there, and I don't want to put words in her mouth, but I think she might have felt a little bit rejected by you."

"I wasn't rejecting her!" he said, louder than he should have.

"I know," she said warmly. "But that's what it seemed like to her, as I'm sure you can understand."

"It's just…" he stuttered. "I don't know. She's not…"

"What?" her mom asked gently, and he relaxed somewhat.

"I've never looked at her and thought for a moment there'd be a girl after her," he said, sighing, surprising himself with his candidness. "And now that I have her, even if it is _like this_, I don't want to screw it up by rushing her or making her feel forced or anything."

"Jim, you've just got to trust her," she said, and he opened his mouth to protest that he did trust her, but she cut off his silent protest. "You have to trust that she knows what she wants and that she's not rushing. It takes a lot for her to step forward and do something. Just trust her."

"Okay," he said feebly.

"Now, you have fun at McDonalds," she said, and he laughed.

"Okay, I will." He went to hang up the phone, before blurting out quickly, "Wait!"

"What?" she laughed.

"Can I give her a message for you?" he asked, and she sounded confused when she replied.

"Actually, I can't remember why I called… She has a message on her cell from me anyway."

"Okay, sounds good."

"It was nice talking to you, Jim."

"You too." And they hung up, just as he heard the shower shut off. _Perfect timing, Pam._

He looked around quickly, taking in her apartment. With the pots and pans and dishes out of the sink, it looked more presentable than it had before, but it still looked like a mix between a bachelor's pad and a high school teenager's room. He knew she liked her apartment to be neat, but sometimes, life just got in the way. She'd once told him about how, her first semester of college, she'd kept her room a mess for three weeks, waiting for finals crunch to be over to clean it, and it had driven her nuts. She hadn't been able to even see the things that were touching the floor, to her own omission. He thought she was exaggerating, but he didn't say anything.

Looking around her apartment, he knew she'd taken a few days off from cleaning, but nothing like he'd taken a few weeks off. He also knew that half of the mess was just from him being there yesterday. It wasn't fair for her to have to clean up after him, he knew that. The question though, was where to start?

He quickly ran into the living room, picking up the cans of soda left over from the night before, as well as the bags of chips, plastic cups and the popcorn bowl, hurrying them into the kitchen and emptying the contents, and then putting the bowl in the dishwasher. He picked up all of the marbles of her Mancala set, chuckling to himself at the memory of her winning streak, and put the game on her glass table, wiping off the crumbs from last night's activities into his hands and throwing them away. He quickly straightened the rugs in front of her couch, picking up the bag he'd brought Mancala in and hanging it on the doorknob of her door, before going to the couch, picking up the quilt she'd laid over him halfway through the night and hanging it on the back of the couch, and straightened the pillows.

He grabbed a broom from the closet and quickly swept up the wooden floors in the living room, as well as the floors in the kitchen, scooping the dirt into the trash can. He picked up her art stuff and put it on a shelf in the kitchen before he wiped off the counters, tables, and inside the sink, and hung up the towel, looking once over the apartment. He went over to the wall, straightening her artwork, when he heard her behind him.

"What are you doing?"

He jumped. "I was just straightening your art," he trailed off, knowing how lame he sounded. She looked around the living room, and then over at the kitchen.

"You cleaned my apartment," she stated, and he shrugged. "No, Jim, you cleaned my apartment," she smiled, and he returned hers. "That's really… Thank you."

"It was the least I can do," he said, and she looked at him funny, before smiling. "Do you need to use the shower for anything? I'm done in there."

He shook his head, smiling. "Is that new?"

She looked down at her jeans and short-sleeved, striped red and white shirt. "Oh, yeah, the shirt is. I got it Monday, I think."

"It looks good on you," he said, and she smiled, grabbing her purse. "You're ready, I see."

"I get excited about things like this," she laughed, and he smiled, leading her down to the car.

* * *

He turned onto the road McDonalds was on, taking a detour from their conversation about Angela's cats, "I feel compelled to tell you something before we get to our destination."

She laughed, "What's that?"

"It has nothing to do with how I feel about you," he said.

"Huh?" she asked.

"Well, let's just say this place isn't exactly upscale. So I want you to know I think you're worth more than the Golden Arches have to offer," he said, turning into the parking lot of McDonalds.

"You're taking me to McDonalds?" she asked. "Wow, new dreams come true every time I'm with you, Jim!"

"Oh, shush," he said, laughing. "This is actually a very big step for us, you just don't know it."

She smiled, "Oh, how so?"

"Well, McDonalds holds very special memories for me, and by bringing you here, I'm sharing them with you," he said simply, and she looked at him, before placing her hand over his.

"Jim, we all played in the ball pit when we were four," she said, and then pulled her hand back, grinning.

"We can go home," he said, already putting the car in reverse.

"No, I want to play in the ball pits, daddy!" she squealed, and he laughed, rolling his eyes. She sobered up quickly, "Okay, Jim, I'm sorry. Tell me about these great memories you have of Mickey D's."

"Well, if you must know," he said, turning in his seat to face her. "I brought my first girlfriend to McDonalds."

"When was that, like, last year?" she teased, and he grinned.

"No, it was Kindergarten," he said, and she laughed. "Her name was Amelia something or other. I think it was Amelia…." He trailed off. "Anyway, Amelia and I went to McDonalds and she told me about something her sister and her boyfriend did."

"What are you talking about?" Pam asked, slightly amused.

"Whenever they ran out of money, they'd go to McDonalds, order a coke, and play a game."

"A game? Like Mancala" she asked, already looking around the car for it.

He laughed, "No, not like Mancala. It's called the Mickey D's game, and only very, very special people can play it. You're only the third girl I'll ever have played it with."

"Did you play it with Kaaaaaty?" she asked in a singsong voice, giggling.

"Nope. Her name was Amanda, I think… She was my 8th grade girlfriend. And I promise, this game is a lot more meaningful than it sounds like."

She nodded, "Uh huh."

"Are you in or out?"

"Well, what do you have to do?"

"In or out?"

"In."

"Okay, here are the rules of the Mickey D's guessing game," he started, "And by the way, they are unflinchingly rigid."

"Like Jinx," she said, and he smiled, pointing.

"Yes, exactly," she laughed, and he continued, "What we do, is we find a corner somewhat close to the middle, but we have to be able to see every single booth from where we are."

"Okay," she said, perplexed.

"Every time a customer comes in, we have to name her, and then guess what she ordered," he said, and she rolled her eyes.

"Like we'll be able to do that," she said.

"Beesly, it's really awesome, just trust me," he said, and she laughed. "Have I ever let you down before?"

"Can I phone a friend?" she asked, and he faked insult. She put her finger to her lips, "Or should I poll the audience?"

"If you do a 50/50, the computer will randomly choose 'No' to get rid of," he said helpfully. She smiled and got out of the car, walking toward the door. She grabbed a seat in the middle of the restaurant, setting up shop before he came over to her.

"What do you want?" he asked, and she laughed.

"Why don't you guess what I'd order, since you think you're Mr. Magorium."

"Mr. Magorium?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes.

"Of the Magical Emplorium, duh Jim," she said, and he laughed, going up to the counter and ordering a coke, a diet coke and a yogurt parfait. When he brought them back to the table, her mouth was open. "What did you get?"

"Diet coke and a parfait for you," he said. "Coke for me. Unlike some people, I know my body is perfect."

She huffed, "Yeah. Uh huh." He watched her for a moment, unsure whether to be hurt by her comment or not, when suddenly she brightened up. "Jackpot, Jim!" she hissed, nodding toward an older woman that had just walked in with long pink overalls, a red hat, and a care bears shirt on.

"What do you think?" he asked, and she studied her for a minute.

"A big mac."

"Really?"

"Yeah, do you think that's wrong?"

"No, I totally think she got a Big Mac. And some large fries."

"And a McFlurry."

"And a diet coke," he finished, and she giggled.

"You're right, this is fun," she said, watching. "Oh, Bertha's about to get her food."

"Bertha?" he laughed.

"Big Bertha," she replied, grinning as a McFlurry was placed on Bertha's tray, next to a drink, fries, and what looked to be a Big Mac. "Yes!" she said, a little too loudly, going red when Bertha looked her way. She laid her hand on the table, palm facing up, and he gave her a low-five, winking at her lightly.

"Oh, here comes Barbara Jo," he said, and she whipped around to see a young woman who seemed to have gotten dressed in her toddler's clothes that morning. She had on a skirt that could easily have been sold out of the kids section of Target, high heels, and a tube top, that covered less of her top than the skirt covered of her bottom.

"I have no idea," Pam whispered, and Jim's eyes went wide. "What do whores order at McDonalds?"

"Umm…" he said, trailing off. "Barbara Jo's gonna try for an orange juice and an 8 pack of chicken nuggets?"

Pam made a face, "I don't think so… I mean, I don't know what she's going to get, but nobody named BJ is going for nuggets," she said, and he choked on his fry. A few moments later, Barbara Jo walked away with three kids meals, unidentifiable due to their similar Scooby Doo bags.

A few moments passed without anyone coming in, and Jim took the opportunity to tell Pam all about his outings with Grandma over the week. She pretended to listen carefully as he told her about the soap shop, the public pool, the 3 PM showing of _Madagascar_, and, her personal favorite, the Blackjack tournament at the senior center. "I seriously whipped all of the old farts' tails in blackjack," he said, and she laughed.

"I bet you did. Pick up any hot 80 year old women while you were there?" she teased.

He didn't skip a beat, "just Bethel. She was really, really fine," he said, and she laughed. "I have a thing for silver-blue hair and dentures, you know." He smiled at her, and she smiled back, when the bell from the door rang, a large, muscular man walking through the door.

"Oh my god, what's Gaston ordering?"

"Gaston?" he laughed, "What are we, the Beauty and the Beast?"

She pondered for a moment, before pointing to herself, "Beauty…" and pointing to him, "and Beast… it fits."

"Oh suck it Beesly," he said, and she laughed. "Gaston is probably getting a Whopper."

"Well, duh, that was easy. I meant what is he getting for his meal? Not his appetizer," she replied, and his eyes went wide.

"Oh, wow," he said, laughing. "Is that Beesly trash talk?"

"Just don't let Grandma see you suck this bad," she said, shrugging. "Okay, our man Gaston is not only having a Whopper and four dozen eggs so he can be the size of a barge, but he is also going to have a Big Mac, an Apple Pie, and he'll supersize his Whopper combo to get the extra large fries with the Biggie…" she peered over at the drink dispenser, looking at the possible drinks, "I bet you anything he'll get the Hi-C."

"Pam!" Jim looked at her as if she were ridiculous. "Gaston is not drinking Hi-C!"

"Yes he is," she said, and he laughed. "See, I told you."

"He hasn't even gotten his food yet, what do you mean, 'see, I told you'?" he asked, laughing.

She shrugged, "I just did, Halpert. Get over it." He rolled his eyes, as Gaston walked quickly away from the counter. "Oh, God, Halpert, count them!"

He perched his head up quickly, watching the tray as it moved through the crowds, before he quickly ducked down. "Gaston saw me," he said, panting. She rolled her eyes, and he laughed. "I don't know if it was Hi-C, but the rest was pretty accurate, I think," he said, and she pumped her fist in the air.

They played the game for two hours before both of them started getting sick of it, all of the orders running together after a while. By the end of the second hour, they both had become experts at guessing the food choices of such customers as Shaniqua, Mary Magdalene, Brad Pitt, and Comacita. "Next one is the last one?" he asked, and she nodded, taking an imaginary sip of her drink that had long since been gone, but her nervous habit in restaurants had always been to sip her drink, regardless if there was any drink yet.

The bell rang and she grinned, leaning into Jim across the table, "We have to get this completely right, agreed?"

"Agreed," he said, and they both looked to see Michael, standing in line at McDonalds, dressed in his 'sexy jeans'.

They turned back to each other, saying in unison, "Oh my God."

"Jinx!" Pam said quickly, and he grunted, rolling his eyes. He pointed at the coke he'd already bought her, and she smiled. "I'll postpone it until we're done with Michael."

He grinned, as they watched Michael, and then he turned back to her.

"Mandarin Orange Salad, Whole Milk and a Fruit Cup," they said in unison, and her eyes went wide.

"Jinx! Buy me a coke!" he said, and she rolled her eyes, laughing. They looked over to Michael, watching him carry his tray with his Mandarin Orange Salad, child's whole milk, and a small fruit cup to a back table. She grinned, putting her hand out for a high-five, and he obliged, before they both walked up to the McDonalds cashier, pointing at the coke button, trying to silently order a coke, while the cashier looked at them like they were a waste of cells.

They exchanged cokes, before Jim leaned in and whispered, "We forgot to name him." She smiled, walking out the door, before turning to him and finally saying.

"His name is Michael."

"That's so boring."

"Let me finish."

"Okay," he said, grunting.

"His name is Michael, Michael Scarn."

"You mean, _the_ Michael Scarn?" Jim asked, eyes wide. "FBI Agent Michael Scarn?"

"The very same one," she smiled, climbing into his car.

He grinned. "Brilliant."

* * *

She was jiggling with the keys in the door, trying to hurry and unlock it as he bounced on one foot next to her. "Hurry!" he said, like a little kid who'd just seen Disney World but firmly believed Daddy was not driving fast enough.

"Sometimes the door sticks," she said, pushing her body against it and turning the handle lightly. It didn't budge. He sighed audibly next to her, and she gave him a warning stare, before locking the door and then unlocking it again, hoping that by some miracle this tactic would work. It did, and he pushed her out of the way lightly, running toward the bathroom.

She dropped her purse on the couch and walked into the kitchen, pulling down a vase and a grilled cheese maker from the top shelf so she could get to the box of paints she'd hidden up there. She set them down on the table, pulling a chair up against the counter and climbing it to put the grilled cheese maker back, finding it harder to put something back on her tippy toes than it was to take it down.

"What's that?" he asked behind her, and she jumped slightly, her hand reaching up to grab the edge of the shelf to balance herself. She turned to look at him, backing slowly off of the chair and made her way over to the table.

"What's what?" she asked, picking up the vase and turning around to put it back on the shelf.

"In your hands," he said, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Um, a vase, Jim," she said, climbing back down. _What do you think it is?_ "Why so inquisitive?"

His eyebrows wrinkled. "When did you break it?"

She looked flustered, and her words came out hurried, "This week while you were gone."

"You don't have to break a vase," he said, "you could have called me if you got upset."

_Oh, yes… I could have called you… Right, because I can't take care of my feelings on my own. Thanks for reminding me I have you to take it all for me. _She glared at him, "I wasn't upset."

He groaned, "come on, Pam… open up a bit."

She stared at him for a moment, before calmly and rationally replying, "I wasn't upset. That's not why I broke the vase."

"It's not? Why then?" he asked, and she could tell he didn't believe her. She watched him for a moment, the way his eye twitched lightly when he knew she was lying. _How dare he not believe me!_

She could feel the anger rising in her, and her cheeks were red, but she wasn't going to let him know that. "Forget about it," she said softly, walking toward her room, but he followed her. _I don't want to get into this right now, idiot._

"No, tell me" he said, and his voice sounded edgy, not as warm as it had once.

She groaned, spinning around to face him. "Why can't you just trust me when I say something? God, damnit, Jim. I'm not this pathetic wounded animal that you have to take care of and play doctor to all the time. I'm a person, you know," she said, and he looked taken aback. _There, I said it. Now you'll be mad or hurt or whatever it is. I'm not sure I care, really… I'm pretty fed up with keeping this all inside. I'm going to blow._

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice raised and she knew they were headed toward a fight, but at that point, she didn't care. It needed to be said. All of it.

"I'm talking about how you treat me like I can't take care of myself. It's always this pitiful expression on your face that says _Oh, poor Pam is hurt, I better come to the rescue_. I don't need you rescuing me from everything, Jim." _Last time I checked, my name wasn't Snow fucking White._

He stared at her blankly, and she continued, walking toward him. He stepped backwards down the hall as she continued, _Where are you going, jerk? Don't you DARE walk away from me when I'm talking to you_. "I'm a big girl. I can make my own decisions, and I can get over my own god damn heartbreak without you having to step in and fix me. I can fix myself."

"I just want to help," he said, "I don't want you to think that _he's_ like every other guy in the world!" he was yelling now, a look of disgust on his face as he snarled about Roy.

"I don't think that, Jim!" She was yelling now, her hands flying in the air. "But I've had someone there to fucking protect me constantly for the past ten years, and I'm sick of it. Just let me protect myself." _God, you men are all the same. Every last one of you has that weird thing where you have to step in front of girls and put your damn coat down on top of a puddle, and my God, we don't need it. I can step in my own puddle, thank you very much._

"I am!" he said, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Oh, is that what you think?" she asked, and he nodded, looking at her like she was crazy. "What were you doing when you wouldn't talk to me about Roy?"

"I was trying to spare your feelings!" he said, loudly. "I didn't want you to get hurt!"

"You don't have to spare my feelings, Jim," she said, "I'm a big girl. I can handle it. God, just let me handle my own crap. Yes, my heart hurts, and my life has been falling apart, but that doesn't mean you have to come galloping in on your fucking white Stallion to try and rescue me. I'm not a damsel in distress, and I want to work through this on my own. I don't need you trying to force it on me!"  
"I'm not trying to force it on you," he said, flustered. "I'm just trying to help you!"

"I appreciate that, but you have to let me move on in my own ways," she said, and he sighed, anger in his cheeks. "You're trying to be this huge part in my recovery and you can't, Jim. You just can't. This is about _me_, not you."_ When did this become so complicated? I mean, what's the line between helping and over-helping. This guy needs to learn his boundaries. I love having him here, and he has helped me, but geez._

"You're so stubborn," he said, gritting his teeth. "You won't let anybody help you."

_Oh, is that what it is? You know me so well, Jim. Wow, stubborn. That makes a hell of a lot of sense. What do you think I've been doing with you these past few months? _She shook her head, a small, angry laugh escaping her lips, "What do you think I'm doing? Letting you take me out on all of these dates every weekend? God, Jim, I'm giving you opportunities, but I'm trying to close the door a little more and work it out on my own. You can only do so much!" He brought his head to his hands, walking away from her, and she followed him.

"You have to learn to trust me," she said, and he turned back around, hurt written all over his face. "Roy never trusted me to make my own decisions, and you aren't either. I need to be able to decide things on my own without getting the third degree. I don't have to answer to you, you know." _The words stung at her. He didn't trust her. Not really. Not completely. It came up in little things, like going up to her desk to make sure she was okay, or buying her dinner and making sure she ate. Little things that said 'I'm here, watching you because I'm not sure you can do this yourself.'_

He stared at her for a minute, before she continued. "Why can't you just believe me? Why do you have to always be prying and pushing further? I can only go so deep, and I'm trying to figure things out on my own," her voice was calmer as she took in the hurt in his face. "I need time. I need to be able to think and work through it all."

He nodded, opening the door to her apartment. _I wish you could just let things go sometimes. Just see them, and forget they're there. Why do you have to ask about every single thing? If I want to break a vase, I should be allowed to. God, I was only doing what you'd told me about. I just wanted to see it shine, that's all. Asshole. _"And by the way," she said, looking back at the vase that had started the entire fight. "I broke it so I could see what it would look like glued back together. Just because something's broken in my house doesn't mean it's because I'm so emotionally wild that I can't control my anger." _I am emotionally wild. And I am angry. But who does he think I am? Roy? I can control myself. I'm not a three year old in the candy aisle._

He looked at her for a moment, before bowing his head and walking briskly out the door, slamming it loudly. She sighed, picking up the vase, and put her back against the wall, letting herself slide to the floor. She sat there for a while, arms crossed, fuming from the fight they'd just had, the way he'd just walked out the door, the things he'd said. She was on a roll. For a moment, all she wanted to do was call every single person that had ever wronged her and give him a piece of her mind, but at the same time, she just wanted to curl up. Fighting was so exhausting.

* * *

Don't hate me. Please, just take Momma Ellen's advice and Trust me. They've got some things to work through before they can be in a healthy relationship--and it's not just Pam that has problems. I promise, they'll be having their problems, but you'll still get your JAM fluffiness. Don't you worry. Can you trust me?

Now, please review! I'd love to hear what you guys think. Teaser for the next chapter: The most romantic date yet!


	15. N is for Naturalize

One of my lovely betas asked me to post this automatically, which is why you all aren't even having to wait a full day to read it. Call it a gift for you before school starts back up (tomorrow for me!). Here we go.

Reviews:

Kerber- Good! That's what I was going for!!! Here's more, and I'm glad you enjoyed seeing all of the emotion!  
Elly- Thanks lovely! I loved the fight scene too.  
Bravery- Oh wow! I'm so glad you liked the fight. I was scared everyone would turn away and be like "aaah nooo". But, it needed to happen.  
Dizzy- Thanks so much! The fight did happen a bit quick, I agree, but the reason for that was that Pam is a lot like me, and she just snaps at the little things when they come up... So, I tried to portray that. And she was somewhat calm at first... but yeah, I see what you mean.  
Jgrrl- Just trust me. They all fight, and it was a fight that had to happen for them to move on and for us to get back to the JAM fluff that is way evident in this chapter, and gets even moreso.  
Sezza- I'm glad you love it! A girl's gotta stick up for herself! As for quickly, eh, not so much in thier time. Yes in ours. there's no way Roy would react submissively... Jim only did because she was being crazy, and he couldn't get a word in edgewise.  
KT- Actually, Owari is a kind of Mancala--they play it differently in Ghana than they do here. The way they were playing was actually Owari, which I like best. :) And yeah, I would in no way leave them weird and fighting. I'm a JAM shipper. And JAM is not the Titanic.  
Katy- Everyone fights. Pam is irrational. You know, way it goes. :) McDonalds is super fun!  
KathrynMae- What an ending! That cracked me up. And yes, it needed to happen, and good feelings will return soon. And Grandma is fantastic and I love her. SHe's great. And there will be more of her later, I promise.  
Maddi- Hah, they go on dates. It's just their thing. And they will resolve it, just a week later. Things are always slower with these two :) And yeah, they do have a better relationship because of the fight. So glad to know you aren't mad--it just seemed like it needed to happen. Jim can't be Mr. Prince Charming all the time.  
Dancer- Thanks! I'm glad you liked the fight. It was hard to write, but fun, and it's needed. :)  
Ashley- It is a truly legitimate fight. It's not about Miracle Whip. And it will get resolved. And WOW what a compliment!  
Christine- Hopefully this will resolve some of your grr's. There's some contact in this one. And I promise the kiss is coming sometime soon. Before R, I'll tell you that much.  
Dean- Wow, thanks so much!  
Eagle- Six weeks that were amazing, yes? I hate coming back to college, haha. But I miss my friends. Ours starts tomorrow--good luck on yours!  
ST- I actually was wondering where you were! Congrats on your godson! That's awesome! 4 days. SHIT! haha. Thanks so much for enjoying htis chapter and letting me know--I was so worried nobody would. You seem to understand where I'm going with this all, ahah. And the anger was a bit abrupt, but it's only because I picture Pam as the type that bottles everything up, and then just explodes with it (Case: Dundies). But I get what you're saying, and I do agree with you. Fluff right now.  
Melissa- too bad its not for naked, huh?  
LittleGG- Thanks so much!!! I promise, I'll get it back to pretty soon! Just stick with me. And Grandma and Mom are fantastic, and both will make more appearances. :)  
Alison- Thanks! Here's your chapter. :)

* * *

They hadn't talked about the fight since it had happened the Saturday before. In fact, they'd hardly talked at all. She'd transferred his calls in the office as soon as they came in; he'd only gotten his jelly beans while she was away from her desk, and life had continued, the way it would have if the other hadn't existed. It was a lonely, pathetic stubbornness that kept them both from conceding to the other, and by the time Friday rolled around, their only conversations had consisted of him asking her if there was any grape soda left (there was) and her asking him if Michael had accidentally deleted all of the games off of their computers (he had).

At 4:30, she came out of the bathroom to see him standing at her desk, popping a red jellybean into his mouth as he slouched over it. _Such bad posture_. She sat down in her chair, looking at her computer screen for emails, her phone for missed calls, and then up at him. She smiled lightly, "Hi."

"Hey," he said, sticking his hands in the jellybean jar again. _Oh man, I wonder what he would do if I ever stopped buying jellybeans?_

"What's up?" she asked, stacking a few papers on her desk. He sighed, and she was sure she wasn't supposed to have heard him, but she did. She looked up at him, plastering a fake smile on her face, staring up at him expectedly.

He gave her a pleading look. "Can I talk to you?" She raised her eyebrows, as if to say, _you're doing it now_, and he continued, "privately?"

She rolled her eyes and stood up, walking toward the hallway, and muttered, "trying to protect me again, Halpert?"

He sighed, "No, I just wanted to talk to you. Is that a crime now?"

She softened, sighing. "What is it, Jim?"

"I just… I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realize…" he trailed off.

She crossed her arms across her chest. "….didn't realize what?"

"I didn't realize what I was doing," he said. "I was just trying to be there for you and help you."

"I know," she said, softening up slightly. _Why are you being so hard on him? You know he was just trying to make you get better. Are you still punishing him for pulling away? That was over two weeks ago!_

"I didn't know it made you uncomfortable," he finished, and she sighed.

"That wasn't what the problem was," she said, unable to imagine why he still couldn't grasp what the issue was.

"What was it, then?" he asked, and she looked up at him to see concern in his eyes. _Wow, he really does want to know. He's actually going to listen to me._

"Let's go somewhere and talk, okay?" she said, and he nodded. They went back into the office, grabbed their things—ignoring the protests from Dwight—and Pam forwarded the calls, before they met outside in the hallway. She pushed the elevator button, and before long they were on the first floor of the building.

They walked silently out of the building, and instead of walking to a car, they just walked down the sidewalk. Finally, he looked at her, "What was it?" he asked, and she smiled.

"It's hard to explain, really," she said, and he nodded next to her. "It's just that I've never really got to be independent. I mean, I started dating Roy when I was a junior, and at the time I had been somewhat independent. I was into my art, and I don't know if you noticed, but a lot of artists have a free, independent streak." He chuckled next to her and she smiled at him. "When I started dating Roy, that slowly went out the window. You know? I started dating him, and part of being in a relationship is making compromises and giving up some things you want to do for the other person."

They kept walking, him being silent, but acknowledging what she'd said, and her telling him what she was feeling. "It's just, after enough compromises… I don't know, when you're young you think love is everything… And I'm not saying it isn't," she was shaking her head lightly, and for the first time, he realized that perhaps this was how she figured things out herself. By talking them out. That's why she'd needed to know all of the information he hadn't told her. He mentally kicked himself.

"It's just that if you're so young, and you start adapting to someone else… And that's all you do, you never really learn who you are without the other person." He nodded. It made sense to him, and he wanted her to know herself. He just didn't know how to balance between letting her figure it out for herself and helping her figure it out. "I mean, I dated him for almost ten years. That's a really long time to be changing for someone else, and I want to be able to figure out who I am aside from that, you know? I need to figure out what was Roy, what was me, and what was just there."

He nodded. "I guess I was just feeling like you were maybe pushing me towards something, or asking me to get rid of too many things at one time, or I don't know, really. I just wanted to do something myself, you know?" He thought about it for a moment, and she continued. "I didn't want to just replace what Roy had taken from me with something you were giving me." She paused. "Does that make sense?"

"I think so," he replied, slowly. "You didn't want the part of you that had compromised to compromise again."

"Yeah," she said, looking down at her feet. "And it's not that I don't appreciate you wanting to help me… I really do appreciate it, Jim," she turned to him, looking at him with a genuine gratefulness that made his heart melt. "I just want to be able to heal by myself so if I have to do it again in the future, I know how."

He nodded, "I understand that."

"Good," she smiled, and they walked silently down the streets a bit more, turning back toward the office. "I'm sorry I blew up at you."

He chuckled lightly. "Honestly, I didn't know you had it in you." She grinned. "I'm sorry."

She nodded. "It's okay."

"No, it's not. I should have trusted that you could take care of yourself. I guess I just wanted to be the person that helped you so badly I just forced that on you. I should have just let you come to me."

She nodded, "It's okay. Sometimes I need a little push, too."

He laughed as they reached the gate to the parking lot, and she quickly noticed their cars were the only ones left. "Are we okay now?"

She smiled, "of course we are, Halpert." He returned her smile, pulling her into a light hug before they headed toward their cars. She'd just opened the door to Sylvia, when he heard her voice across the parking lot. "Hey, Halpert?!"

"Yeah?" he asked.

"What time are you picking me up tomorrow?" she asked, and he grinned. _She's actually going to let me take her out tomorrow? This girl is seriously something else._

"I'll pick you up at 9. So see if you can tape _Three's Company_." She laughed, giving him the A-okay sign and climbing in the car.

* * *

She opened the door to see him smiling, "Hi there," he said, "Can I come in?" She nodded slightly, wondering why they weren't just leaving like they normally did. 

"Hey," she replied, as he walked into her bedroom. She hurried after him, "hey! Where are you going!?" He turned back at her, grinning.

"Sorry, do you have something you don't want me to see?" She reddened, and opened the door for him, sticking her head in first to make sure she hadn't left any underwear or anything else of questionable content on the floor. She noticed the coast was clear and opened the door wider, and he followed her.

"Why are we in here?" she asked, her palms sweaty. _Oh come on, Pam. This isn't high school. It's not like he's going to be undressing you anytime soon._

"You're probably going to want to bring a change of clothes," he replied. She nodded, looking down at her jeans and short sleeved shirt. "Should I just change now?"

"No, but you'll need to pack something a little bit nicer," she raised her eyebrows, and he went red, before trying to save himself, "I mean… you look nice in that, but we're going somewhere you need to be dressed up a little bit more."

She walked over to her closet, and he watched her thumb through various dresses and skirts he had no idea she owned, but he wanted to see her in them immediately. She looked over at him, "which one?"

He walked closer to her closet, reaching out to thumb through the dresses. _God that's soft_… _That neckline is really low…. I love her in this color…_ His mind was racing with the possibilities. "I like the purple one," he said, pulling out a thin, purple sundress. "You might want a jacket with it, though. It gets a little bit cold." She nodded, grabbing a white cardigan from the closet and packing it with the dress neatly next to her bag.

"Is that all I need?" she asked and he nodded. She laughed, throwing her bag back in the closet. "I can just put this on a hanger," she explained and he shrugged. They walked out of the room, and he watched her grab her purse, patting her jeans pockets to make sure she had her cell phone. She looked through her purse, slyly, like she always did, checking to make sure she had her keys, wallet, and a few other items, before leading him out the apartment door, locking it behind her.

"The drive is kind of long," he said when she climbed in, and she grinned.

"Are we going to see Grandma?" her face lit up, and for a moment, he thought about changing all of their plans at the look in her eyes, but he wanted her to experience what he'd arranged, so he just shook his head. "Oh, well how long is the drive?"

"About two hours," he replied, and she smiled. "We don't stop at gas stations this time." She laughed. "Why don't you pop in our Wilco CD?" he asked, and she giggled, rooting around his CD holder for it. "How was your night?" he asked, as she found it.

"It was good. I didn't do too much. Cooked myself dinner," she said, turning to him, "Macaroni and cheese."

"Are you five?" he asked, and she laughed, grinning.

"Jim, I make the best macaroni and cheese in the history of the world. It's sooooo good. I swear, I have enough to eat off for the rest of the week."

"Well, it couldn't have been that good if you have enough to eat for the rest of the week," he replied, and she pouted.

"No, it's just really filling!" she said, and he chuckled. "My mom used to make it when my grandparents and aunts and uncles came in town, and she'd make one pot for eleven people and there would still be some left over."

"Oh, wow," he said, and she smiled, satisfied with herself. "She taught me how to make it a few years ago. Well, right when I got engaged. She said I needed to learn how to keep a man fed."

"Oh, so you were cooking for a man last night?" he teased.

"Nope, but I was cooking for someone with the appetite of a man."

"Who?" he asked.

"Me!" she laughed, and he joined in. _Well, she certainly can pack it away when she's hungry. Maybe one day she'll make me some macaroni and cheese. Yummy. _"You wanna know something funny?"

"Yes," he replied, chuckling already.

"My uncle is a colorblind electrician," she said, and his head whipped around to look at her, a quizzical expression on his face. She giggled, "I know! He met my aunt when she was 23 and he had a kid and she used to show up in all of these different color outfits! Everyone thought he was crazy."

"How is he an electrician?" he asked, trying to figure out how such a feat would work safely.

"He says there's a different thickness in the wires," she replied, shrugging. "One day, he told me he wanted us to drive to Puerto Rico." He laughed, rolling his eyes lightly. "He's not the brightest light in the shed."

He burst into laughter, and she looked at him, "What?"

"The brightest light in the shed?" he asked, and her eyes went wide as she tried to figure out what was so funny. "Or do you mean the sharpest tool?" She turned red, laughing violently, her whole body jerking back and forth. He watched her, a smile on his face.

Soon the sounds of Wilco were filling the car, and Pam found herself daydreaming, staring out the window at the signs that pointed them closer to the hidden destination. She couldn't help but think, at that moment, how much going on this trip was like her life right now. She knew where she was coming from, and every minute that passed she became more certain that she was going away from that, yet at the same time, she had no idea where she was going.

Things with Roy had, at one point, been good. She'd felt loved and appreciated in a way that she never had before. It wasn't that her parents had done a horrible job showing her their love, or that they'd raised her to believe that nobody in the world appreciated her, but parents were supposed to love their children. It was their job. It was the definition of being a parent.

She'd gone through elementary school being the strange girl with the funny clothes. Her parents had never been much on capitalizing on outer beauty, and so when she went off to school, they didn't dress her to impress. She grew up on pink shorts and patterned vests, hair scrunchies and no make up. She'd grown used to it by the time she started picking her own clothes for school, and there was no way she was going to change from the comfort and predictability of the image she'd created for herself.

The problem was, nobody wanted to be friends with the plain jane girl that sat in the back of the room and doodled on her desk. She was the quiet girl that refused to go out of her way to make friends, and even though everyone saw it as a flaw, she liked it for the most part. She enjoyed being alone more than she enjoyed socializing with others, and it was only a few times, late at night or during recess, when she realized just how alone she was. She had very few friends throughout elementary school—enough that she would bring a book to recess and read standing up, or she'd go play soccer with the boys because it was okay if they didn't want to be her friend. That was just expected.

When she went to middle school, she was quickly introduced to the popular crowd. It was the same group of girls it had been in elementary school—the ones she idolized because they were nice and pretty, but they just cast her to the side. They weren't mean the way they did it, it was just that they didn't notice her. She couldn't fault them for it; she wasn't exactly the most noticeable type of person. She'd never be able to say why it was that middle school had been so horrible for her. Obviously, she hadn't fit in. She'd been an outsider, the kid in the back of the bus, and the one who ate lunch in the art room just so she wouldn't have to explain why she wasn't eating it with her friends.

She'd tried desperately to fit in, but by the time she'd concocted so many hideous outfits in middle school, or even good ones that didn't seem to get anyone to look her way, she'd given up on it. In high school she'd worn her t-shirts and blue jeans every day. She had the backpack that was cheapest, her hair was always up in a ponytail, and makeup didn't suit her fancy. She was that girl, and she didn't mind. She put all of her effort into her art, and she had her own set of friends. The artsy, edgy ones. She didn't quite fit in with them, either, but she fit in with them more than she did with anyone else.

Her relationship with Roy had started junior year, accidentally. There'd been no other seat on the bus one day after school, and even though she had pretended not to notice him, her knees to the seat in front of her, a book in her hands, she had. When he'd leaned over her shoulder and asked her what she was reading, she'd kept reading the page, simply answering by showing him the cover. She'd thought she'd gotten rid of him when the bus stopped at his stop a few minutes later, but then that night she'd gotten a phone call from him asking her to tutor him, and the rest was history.

When they'd started dating, it had been a rush. Someone was finally interested in her, despite her strange clothes and quirky sense of humor. He'd take her to football games, let her hold his hand, walk her from her locker to the classroom door. She could never quite figure out why he'd chosen her. The first few months, she thought it was only because of her ability to help him crank out a great paper, but when summer came and he no longer had the need for her as a study partner, she was surprised to still have him hanging around. She still didn't understand why he'd picked her, and come to think of it, she only just now understood why she'd picked him.

She'd wanted to be that girl. That girl that was the outcast in the movies. The Molly Ringwald girl that was awkward and lonely, the one nobody liked, but yet, somehow, she managed to catch the eye and the heart of the most popular guy in school. Roy wasn't the most popular, but he was popular. His brother could get he and his friends beer on a whim, and he was the star of the football team. All the girls wanted him, and somehow, she'd gotten him. And as soon as she had, suddenly, she'd become the girl everyone looked at and went, _how did SHE get HIM?_ And she liked being that wonder child. She liked being talked about, even if it wasn't friendly talk—she'd never been talked about at all before. She figured being talked badly about was better than being ignored, and as long as she had Roy, she certainly wasn't ignored.

As much as she wanted everyone to believe she was in love with him, and he was in love with her, it wasn't that way. She'd worked so hard to make him love her, perhaps harder than she should have. She'd come up with solutions to fix their relationship, whether it be sex or marriage or whatever it was, she needed and ached to be that girl. Anything to keep him around, to prove to the world that little Pamela Beesly could do it. The geeky artist girl could land the star of the school. She did it the best way she knew how. She loved him, unconditionally. She turned a blind eye to his faults, and when he showed her affection, she relished in it for longer than she should have. She pretended to be as infatuated with his body as he was with hers, and eventually, the pain that came from watching him, and knowing that he wasn't in love with her began to dwindle. The sparks of early romance had long since run dry, and instead of saying goodbye and letting things run their course, she'd done everything she could to hang on to him. She'd always known that if you believe something hard enough, you can convince yourself that it's true. She convinced herself that the love was true.

The truth was, it ran out sometime in college. One too many beers, one too many times in bed where she did all the work and got nothing in return, one too many times he blew her off for his friends. They'd all led to this. He hadn't looked at her as anything more than the tagalong girl, and she hadn't seen him as anything more than the top of the social ladder. Sure, she hadn't realized it at the time, and she knew him well enough to know he hadn't either—he was too caring for that, even if he wasn't caring enough—but that's what it was. That's what it boiled down to. And it left her wondering if it was every really love. Was it love, or was it just teenage dreams and expectations, stubbornness to be something she wasn't, would never be?

Sitting in the car, the sounds of her favorite CD recycling in the background, she felt some sort of epiphany. She'd spent her entire life trying to be someone else—trying to be the kids everyone played with in elementary school, trying to be one of the popular girls, trying to convince people she didn't care that she wasn't. And then with Roy, she'd spent the entire time trying to be the Molly Ringwald, high school sweetheart type of girl, and she wasn't. She was just the awkward, artsy girl that was lost. The one that had spent her whole life trying to find herself, but had actually managed to walk farther away from herself than closer to who she was.

She looked over at Jim, and for the first time, she noticed he was humming along to the music, and she couldn't help but smile at him. She laid her head against the headrest, her eyes focused on him as he drove. She'd been silent for over an hour now, and it was almost awkward to start talking again, but she couldn't help it. She had to know. "Jim?"

He smiled, his eyes on the road. "Yeah?"

Suddenly, she wasn't sure what she was going to say. She knew what she wanted to ask, but how to put the words together, how to form the question in a way that made sense to both of them—that she didn't know. He hadn't had the advantage of being included in her thoughts for the past hour; how would he even know what she meant when she asked him what was on her mind? "I'm not really sure how to say it," she said, and he turned to her, shrugging lightly.

"Try."

"Well," she started, choosing her words carefully, "how do you know when you're being yourself?"

He thought for a moment, and she could see him doing so. His eyebrows wrinkled when he thought, and he squinted his eyes slightly. His eyes darkened and he stared straight ahead with a look that could blind you if you hadn't seen it before. "Do you mean, instead of being someone else?"

"Yeah," she stared at him, anxiously awaiting his answer.

"I think there's some sort of freedom," he said, and she nodded lightly. "I guess when you're trying to be someone else or putting on a façade or whatever it is you want to call it, you just feel a little tug… A little loneliness, I guess. I can't really describe it." She nodded, and he turned to her, "but when you're truly being yourself, it's like all of that is gone… You feel… almost invincible."

"Invincible," She smiled. He nodded, repeating the word back to her, and she squinted, looking out the window for a moment, thinking of invincibility. She thought about all of those times she'd been at the lunch table with Roy and his football buddies. The nervousness she'd felt before she made a joke, wanting them to like her. How she'd been so on guard, so quick to protect herself that she'd missed that nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't quite grasp her mind around the words for it, but she knew she understood what he meant. There was something there when she was pretending that wasn't when she was being herself.

She made a resolution with herself at that moment that she was going to try her damndest to be invincible, free, and most importantly, herself.

* * *

They'd been held up in traffic briefly, as Jim hadn't quite taken into account that MapQuest didn't allot for New York City traffic. They'd finally parked the car in an old parking garage by a Wendy's and a gas station at 11:27, both of their stomachs growling from lack of food. She'd never been to New York, and the last time he had was his sixth grade field trip. It was one of those places she'd always dreamed of going, but she'd never thought she'd actually get there. After all, why would there be any reason to do so? 

They walked along the streets of New York, and she looked up and around her, constantly trying to see everything. He chuckled next to her. "Sometimes, you are such a little kid I just don't know what to do with you," he said, and she smiled up at him. They reached a little pizza place on the corner of the block, and she raced inside. He laughed, following after her and she blushed lightly as he sat across from her.

"Sorry, my stomach was just gravitating…" she trailed off. He laughed, grabbing a menu, as they tried to focus on what kind of food they wanted. They quickly ate an entire pepperoni and pineapple pizza, their stomachs full. There wasn't much room for talking as they stuffed their faces, but they managed to get little quirks in random places within conversation. When they'd finished eating and were waiting for the check, their conversation took a turn about New York.

"What would you like to see?" he asked her, and she grinned, her eyes brightening. She paused for a moment, and he continued, "anywhere you want to go, we can go."

She looked up at him hesitantly, "this will sound really weird."

"Okay."

"Can we go see where John Lennon was shot?" he laughed, rolling his eyes.

"Nothing weird about that," he said, paused, and then "yes." She grinned, jumping out of her seat and he followed her. "Okay, so we need to find the Dakota on 72nd, then," he said, and she looked up at him, laughing lightly.

"I can't believe you know that," she smiled as he led her outside.

"Of course," he said, before putting on a fake British accent, "I have always been a huge fan of The Beatles."

"I can only imagine," she said, winking at him as he hailed his arm in the air to grab them a cab. A yellow van stopped in front of them, and he opened the door for her as she climbed in before him.

He sat down behind her, shutting the door as he told the driver, "corner of 72nd and Central Park West, please." She grinned at him, and the driver nodded as lights flickered above them and music started playing. Pam looked up at the ceiling, watching the lights flickering and gave him a funny look. The driver turned around to explain.

"Welcome to the Cash Cab. This is the only game show that takes place right here in this taxi." Pam turned to him, her eyes wide, and he gave her a lopsided grin, surprise written all over his face. The man continued, "Here's how it's going to work: I'm going to ask you some general knowledge questions. They're going to start off easy and get harder as they go along. If you keep getting them right, you can win money all the way to your destination. If you get three wrong, I'm going to have to pull you over and kick you out, so don't get three wrong. So, what do you say? You wanna play?"

Pam grinned, jumping in her seat clapping. He laughed. "It's looking that way," he replied, and the man continued.

"Okay, let's go for a ride. So, what are your names?"

"I'm Pam, this is Jim," she said, grinning.

"Hi Pam, Jim. First question, for 25 dollars. What medieval code of knighthood is associated with virtue, honor, and courtly love?"

"Courtly love?" Pam asked, looking at him funny. "Oh, you know this one."

"I do?" he asked, and she laughed, turning to the guy in the front.

"Chivalry," she said, and he nodded.

"That's correct. Second question, for 25 dollars. Along with Dan Akroyd, who punctuated classic SNL sketches with the line "We are two wild and crazy guys?"

"Oh, God, Jim who was that?" she asked, and he could tell she was a bit nervous. She was pinching the skin between her eyes, and he laughed.

"Was it Steve Martin, you think?" he asked her, and her head shot up.

"Yes! Steve Martin! Steve Martin!" she jumped in her seat, and the cab driver laughed.

"Ohhhh," he said in a way that made them think they'd lost. "That's correct."

"Okay, next question. During the Victorian Era, what long-legged bird became associated with the delivery of babies?"

"Stork," Jim replied quickly.

"Stork is correct," he said, and Pam cheered, patting his back. He grinned. "Okay, next question. What easy to assemble campfire treat consists of marshmallow, chocolate, and graham crackers?"

"Smores!" they both said in unison, and Pam opened her mouth to jinx him but he covered her mouth, whispering, "you don't want to do this alone."

"Smores is correct," he said, and they both cheered. "Okay, you have 100 dollars now, for 150 dollars, In 1924, which British clothing company introduced it's signature check pattern known as the _nova_?"

His eyes went wide. "I have no idea, Pam."

"Me neither, let's do a street shout out."

"Okay," the cab driver said, "You have one street shout out for the game, if you want to use it now. You can pick one passerby on the street for help," he slowed down, pulling over to the side of the street.

"Let's ask her," Pam pointed to an older woman, wearing a checkered coat. Jim leaned out the window, and hollered.

"Excuse me, ladies!" he waited until he got their attention, before starting again, "We're on a game show and we need help with a question!" They made their way closer, and he continued, sucking up, "It's about fashion, and you both are pretty fashionable." They grinned, and she stuck her head out the window.

"Thank you so much!" she said as the ladies came to the window. She repeated the question, "In 1924 what British clothing company introduced it's signature check pattern known as the _nova_?"

"Burberry," they said in unison, and Pam leaned up to the guy.

"That's our answer," she said.

"Burberry is right," he said, and she, Jim and the women cheered as the driver faced back towards the street and pulled out, as they came to a red light. "Okay, we've reached a red light so it's time for a red light challenge. I'm going to ask you a question with multiple answers. You can shout out as many as you want, and you have 30 seconds to reach your quota of acceptable answers. There are no penalties for wrong answers, and if you don't succeed, you won't get a strike. It's worth 200 dollars."

Pam grinned, clapping her hands and Jim laughed. The cab driver continued, "Okay, for 200 dollars, Name 3 of the 5 presidents who are named James?"

She looked at him, laughing, "Um, Madison!" she yelled.

"That's one," the driver said.

"Adams, Washington, Polk, Harrison, Tyler, Taylor," Jim spouted off a list of presidents and she laughed.

"Polk was one," the cab driver replied.

"God, Jim, who was the other one?" Pam said, burrowing her head in her hands and thinking. He was rattling off lists of presidents, before her head shot up at the three second mark, "Carter?" she asked, hoping that his real name wasn't actually Jimmy.

The man turned around as the time went out, staring at them. Jim turned to her, "I'm not sure if his name was James or not? Was it?"

She shrugged, giving him the _I'm frustrated right now_ look, before the cab driver jumped in, "James Carter is correct, you've got the Red Light Challenge, congratulations!" They squealed as he went on, "Okay, we're only three blocks from your destination, we have time for a few more questions and you have no strikes—you're doing great.

"The self-proclaimed sailing capital of the world, what Rhode Island city is home to the Museum of Yachting?" the cab driver asked, and Jim automatically answered.

"Providence."

"Okay," Pam said, nodding. "Providence."

"Ouch, Strike one!" The cab driver said, "It's Newport, Rhode Island." They both groaned lightly, before the driver continued, "Okay, 2 more of those guys and I have to kick you out."

"Okay," Pam said.

"What was the original name of Istanbul?"

Pam grinned, looking over at Jim, and they both began to sing the _They Might Be Giants_ song: _Constantinople, not Istanbul but Constantinople, so if you have a date in Constantinople, she'll be waiting in Istanbul_.

"Constantinople?" the cab driver said, and Pam nodded enthusiastically.

"Hell yeah," Jim replied, and she giggled next to him.

"That's correct!" he said, "We have one block left now, and we have time for two more questions. Your total is now, 400 dollars. This one is for 100."

"Okay," Jim replied.

"Who was the Roman governor that preceded over the death of Jesus Christ, according to the New Testament?"

"Oh, God, I should know this," Pam said, her eyebrows raised as she stared at him. He shrugged, not remembering either. "I guess we should call someone," Pam said.

"Okay, who?"

"Angela," Pam said, and he laughed.

The cab driver handed them a phone, "All calls are free, courteous of Cingular," he said, and they both could tell he was advertising for the camera. Pam quickly grabbed the phone and dialed the number to Angela's. She answered on the third ring.

"This is Angela."

"Hi Angela, it's Pam," she said quickly, continuing before Angela hung up on her. "Who was the Roman governor that preceded over the death of Jesus?"

Angela scoffed, "The dirty, rotten Pontius Pilate," she replied, and then added, "I will pray for your soul. How did you not know that?"

"Thanks Angela!" Pam said, rolling her eyes and hanging up. "She says Pontius Pilate," she said to Jim and he shrugged.

"I'd trust Angela on bible knowledge any day," he replied, and she grinned.

"Pontius Pilate is correct!" the driver said, and Pam grinned, mentally promising to thank Angela later. "Alright, we have time for one more question. This will be your hardest one yet, and it's worth 100 dollars, so it'll bring your total up to 600 if you get it right."

"Okay," Pam smiled.

"Under what name is buffalo hunter William F. Cody best known?"

"I have no idea," Pam said, looking at him. It made him nervous, the way she was looking at him, as if she expected him to know.

"I don't know either," he replied, and leaned into her and whispered in her ear. She smiled, before answering the question.

"FBI Agent Michael Scarn?" she asked, and the cab driver turned around, a perplexed look on his face.

"Actually, Buffalo Bill Cody," he said as he pulled over at their stop. "Congratulations, you two have won 500 dollars on the Cash Cab," he said, and they cheered. "Now, you can go on your way, I have your money in my hand…" Pam groaned, hearing the ultimatum coming. "…or you can go double or nothing, risking your money on a video bonus question."

They looked at each other for a moment, before she said quietly, "I think we should do it."

"You think we should?" he asked, unsure. He'd always been the type to take the safe bet, but she had such a fire of determination in her eyes.

"If we lose, we just leave the cab with the same amount of money we came in with," she shrugged, and he nodded, sighing.

"Alright, for you we'll play," he said, secretly admiring her competitive streak.

"Alright, I'm going to show you a video clip and ask you one question about it," the cab driver said. "If you answer it correctly, you'll double your money and walk away with a thousand bucks."

"This painting," the voiceover started, as Pam's eyes lightened at the painting that flashed over the screen, Sister Wendy talking about it, "was painted in 1434 as a wedding portrait to mark the Arnolfini wedding. Whose signature appears in the back of the painting, marking the second witness?"

"It's the artist's, isn't it?" Jim asked, and Pam stared at him blankly, lowering her head to her hands.

"Yeah, but who was the artist?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"I don't know? DaVinci?" She looked at him like he was crazy, and she shook her head.

"You have 10 seconds," the cab driver said.

She groaned.

"Pam, let's just pick someone famous."

"No," she replied, "I can get it."

"5 seconds."

"Pam, what is it?"

"2 seconds."

"Jan Van Eyck!" she blurted out, and he looked up at the cab driver, both of their eyes wide with anticipation.

The driver reached into his glove compartment silently, before pulling out more bills and handing it to them. "Jan Van Eyck is correct," he said and she grinned, jumping in her seat.

"Thanks so much!!" she squealed, hugging Jim and grabbing the money as she got out of the cab. He laughed, following her out of the car as she raced to the front of the Dakota building.

He watched her, once again mesmerized by her excitement. _How the hell did she know all of this?_ He raced over to her side, standing in the same spot as her. "Wow, 1000 dollars and John Lennon. Fantastic!" she sang-sung and he laughed, watching her.

She stood over the spot, making the come-hither motion with her finger. He walked over to her, and she put her hand out, "iPod?"

He handed it over to her, and she smiled, "You have new music?"

"Yeah," he said, and she handed him an ear bud. "Definitely." She smiled, scrolling through the songs until the sounds of _Imagine_ floated into their ears. They swayed huddled achingly close together, but not touching, as the music continued. When it had finally stopped, she smiled, took the ear bud out of her ear, and handed it to him. "Okay, now where to?"

"You pick," he said, and she smiled, shaking her head no.

"I'm sure you had something planned," she said, and he returned it, raising his arm to hail another cab.

The cab slowed and they climbed in, both somewhat upset at the monotonous car ride. "Where are we going?" she asked him after he'd told the driver the street names.

"We're going back to the car so we can change our clothes," he said, and she nodded. "And then we're going to go to the Met."

She grinned and bit her lip as the car ride continued, dropping them off at the garage. They climbed up to where the car was parked, and she smiled, "How late will we be in New York?"

"Um, probably until at least midnight or so," he replied.

"So we'll get home at two in the morning?" she asked, and he nodded slightly. She bit her lip for a moment longer, and he looked at her.

"What? Is that a problem?" he asked softly.

"No, no…" she replied quickly, "it's just that we're both going to be exhausted. Why don't we just get a hotel room or something?"

He raised his eyebrows, stuttering lightly. "I didn't think you'd want to do that," he replied simply. "After all, it's not like we're together…" he trailed off.

"So, it'll be even less awkward," she said simply, and he conceded. "Besides, we just won a thousand bucks, it's not like we can't afford it."

He laughed, nodding. "Okay, then let's go find one. That'll give us a free parking place, too." She nodded and hopped in Julia. "How would you feel about staying near The Met?"

She grinned. "That would be lovely."

* * *

She sat on the bed as he wandered into the bathroom, "I'll knock when I'm ready," she said, and he nodded, taking his clothes with him to change. She quickly pulled off her jeans, camisole bra, and shirt, and lifted the little sundress over her head, letting it fall on her body perfectly. She made a face when she remembered how low-cut it was, but Jim had picked it, and seeing as they were in New York, she had no other choice. 

They'd paid 329 dollars for their double room at the Marriot. She'd never paid that much for a hotel. Her rent was hardly even that much; she couldn't believe she'd paid that much for one night. But, it was on 40th street, which meant it was directly across from The Met, and honestly, she couldn't have imagined anything more beautiful than sleeping across from The Met.

She tugged at the necklace on her neck lightly, smiling when she saw how perfect it laid. _I would never have thought to wear these two together… But they look great._ She grabbed her cardigan, slipping her arms into it. _I've never really liked the whole low neckline thing… Why did I buy this dress anyway?_ She slipped her feet into the white flip flops she'd brought and looked at herself in the mirror. She quickly undid her ponytail, letting her hair fall to her shoulders. It didn't look its best, but it was certainly better than her half-back work style or the ponytail she had on the weekends.

She walked over to the bathroom door and knocked on it five times in the typical du-du-duh-dum-dum pattern. He opened the door and smiled at her, and for a moment, she felt like someone had knocked her in the stomach and she forgot to breathe. _Damn, he looks so good dressed up_.

His eyes went wide, "You look…" he trailed off, and she grinned up at him. "Smashing, darling, just smashing," he said in his best John Lennon impression. She giggled. He put his arm out, "let's go, milady."

"So you're the chivalrous English knight John Lennon?" she asked and he nodded, leading her out into the street and into the Met. He paid for their tickets, and glanced at his watch quickly.

"Okay, it's 2:45. We need to be out of here by 5:30." Her eyes went wide, but she nodded slowly. "I don't know where to go first…."

"Well, let's just pick somewhere. Who said we can't come back one day?" he said, and she turned to him, smiling as she gave him a hug. He patted her back curiously before he pulled away, "So, where to?"

"This way!" she whispered, pointing toward a section that seemed to be a lot of paintings of churches made out of gold. She stopped in front of a collection of small, sculpted plaques, her breath catching in her throat. "Oh my god…." She whispered to herself, taking a step closer to the sculptures, her hand reached out as if it might somehow let her feel the inspiration in each of them. "Jim," she whispered in a hush, "do you know what these are?" he shamefully shook his head no.

"They're Lorenzo Ghiberti's _Gates of Paradise_," she gushed. "Oh wow… I've always wanted to see these. I had no idea they were here. They're normally not."

"What are they?" he asked, looking at them.

She smiled, "There's a famous cathedral in Florence called the Grace Cathedral. Back when it was commissioned in the 1400s there were these two great artists, Ghiberti and Brunelleschi, and they were competing to get the commission because it was going to take 21 years and that's obviously some security."

"21 years?" Jim asked incredulously.

"Mmhmm," she said. "Anyway, each little panel is as small as these are. As you can see, they aren't very big, but they make up an entire door. There are twenty of them, and each one of them has a different scene from The Bible sculpted on them. They're really cool," she said, smiling. "We learned about them in my Art History class junior year. I've always wanted to see them up close. There's just so much detail on them." He studied them for a moment, interrupted by her voice, "aren't they beautiful, Jim?"

"Yes," he whispered, finding himself in awe of their beauty.

"In fact," she went on, "he got another commission for another set of doors on the cathedral, and that one took him 27 years. Can you imagine working 48 years designing panels for doors?" He smiled, shaking his head lightly, as she wandered in front of him. He stood there, looking at the panels, seeing only glimpses of the beauty she saw in it, and yet, it was enough to nearly knock him off his feet.

After browsing through paintings by Masaccio, Fra Filippo Lippi, Pierro della Francesca, Boticelli, Giovanni, Vasari, DaVinci, Michaelangelo and Raphael—most of which Jim had never heard of, and Pam seemed to have no end to her knowledge of them—it was time to leave the museum. Pam's face fell downcast as she realized the end was drawing near, and she began to linger at every painting, enjoying it so much more, soaking in the miracle it was for her to be able to see them all, up close and personal.

"Pam," he said softly, touching her shoulder after she'd looked at a particular painting for over five minutes straight. "Pam, it's time to go."

She turned to him, "this is one of the most famous paintings in the world." He nodded. "I just can't believe I'm only a few feet away from it. It's so much more…" she trailed off, unable to find the words. "…perfect in person."

He nodded, looking at the painting once more, letting the extra minutes tack on to the fashionably late meter they'd already passed slightly. A few moments later she looked up at him. "I'm ready," she said, her face sad.

"Hey," he said, tapping her arm lightly, "don't be so downcast."

"Sorry, I just don't want to leave," she replied, and he sighed.

"I promise, I'll bring you here again," he said, and her head shot up, a smile forming on her lips.

"You will? Really?" she asked, her eyes brightening and her entire face showing the excitement she felt.

"Hell, we'll get season passes and come every weekend if you want," he replied, and she smiled, hugging him once more. "Would that make you happy?" he asked softly, and she laughed into his chest.

"You're the best," she said softly, pulling away and voluntarily walking away from the paintings and out to the cities of New York, the one thought on her mind hitting her like bricks. _And chances are, he actually will._

* * *

She stopped walking when she saw a cab coming to put her hand in the air, but he turned to her and asked sharply, "What are you doing? Put your hand down." She obliged, staring at him funny. He put his hand back, "We have to hurry. I don't want you getting lost," he said, and she laughed, taking his hand as they hurried down the streets. He was walking fast, "Jim, slow down!" she said, and he smiled, slowing his walk just a tad bit so she could catch up. He stopped in front of a horse carriage and a rider, and smiled. 

"I'm assuming you've never been on a carriage ride?" he asked, and her eyes went wide and she smiled.

"Never," she gushed as he lifted his hand toward the carriage, helping her inside. He whispered to the driver where they were headed. She grinned as he climbed inside of the carriage and sat across from her. "You've really went all out for this date, haven't you?" she smiled.

He nodded. "Let's just say I would have been very disappointed if you'd decided not to come."

She giggled, "You would have been so lost in the Met."

"I was more thinking I wouldn't have won 500 bucks in Cash Cab," he replied, and she laughed. "You were like a pro at that game."

"Okay, I have a confession to make," she said, and he smiled. She covered her face with her hands, laughing gently. "When I was little, I used to read the dictionary."

"You used to read the dictionary?" he asked.

"Yeah, every night before I went to bed… for like 5 years," she replied. "I didn't retain much of it, but it was one of those dictionaries that also had random little history and science terms in it and stuff."

"So you're telling me that because you read the dictionary as a little girl, we won money on our cab ride?" She nodded, "Okay then."

She smiled, "You know what I don't understand, Jim?" The driver took a turn.

"What's that?"

"Why you're sitting way over there," she said, biting her lip and staring at him. "We're on a date, remember?" He smiled, looked behind him at the driver to make sure he wasn't watching, and then quickly got up and sat next to her, putting his arm around her. "That's better," she said softly, laying her head on his shoulder. He smiled down at her.

He watched her as they rode silently in the carriage. She was thinking about something, and even though he wanted desperately to be included in her thoughts, he couldn't help but remember their fight the week before. So just as he had in the car, he stayed silent. She would tell him if she wanted to tell him.

He watched her face as she thought. She closed her eyes, and when she did, her entire face relaxed and he could see the wrinkles on her face. Under her eyes, on the bridge of her nose, by her lips. He could see all of her laugh lines. He was overcome by the knowledge that he had probably put some of those very laugh lines on her face over the years, just as she had put so many on his.

He thought about how vulnerable she was being at that moment. Eyes closed, just leaning on him. He could easily get up and walk away and she would have little idea, but for some reason, she trusted him. She trusted him to not leave her stranded in the horse carriage, and for some reason, that made his heart sore.

The horse stopped, and he looked around, knowing they weren't at her destination. She tilted her head up, a quiet whisper, "are we there yet?"

He got a whiff of a horrible smell and he smiled at her, leaning down to try and smell her shampoo rather than what was filtering up, "No," he said softly, "I think the horse just had to take a crap."

She smiled, "how romantic." He shook his head, chuckling lightly, as the horse started down the street again. "I was just thinking," she started, and inwardly, he cheered, "how amazing New York is. When I was a little girl, I used to dream of coming here. Have I ever told you that?"

"No," he said, smiling, "but why don't you tell me now?"

"I've just always thought it sounded so great, you know?" she asked, sitting up lightly, using her hands to spend off the extra energy. "All of the tall buildings and the bright lights… The fashion and the food…" She trailed off, grinning.

"I hear a lot of people come to Scranton for the fashion and the food," he grinned, and she swatted him lightly.

"Stop being silly," she scolded. "I just think that it's such a beautiful place. I mean, there's a reason everybody wants to come here. And there's a reason they have all of those I heart NY shirts."

"People come here to get those shirts," he shrugged, and she rolled her eyes. "And they make them because people come."

"I've always wanted to go to the Met," she said softly. "Thank you for taking me."

"Of course," he said, running his hands through her hair absentmindedly. "I figured after the John Lennon hot spot, that's where you'd want to go."

She smiled, looking up at him, and he could feel his heart turning to putty. "You're on to me," she grinned. He laughed, before she spoke up again, "where are we going now? I really hope it's food because I'm starving."

"You're always starving," he said, as the horse slowed down. She grinned and shrugged. "We're going to what is apparently one of the best Japanese restaurants in town, Nobu."

"Japanese?" she asked, grinning. "I love Japanese."

"I know," he replied, climbing out of the cart. He offered his hand to help her and she took it, smiling as she hopped onto the sidewalk. He paid the driver and led her into the dimly lit restaurant. He walked up to the hostess, a Japanese woman around thirty, "Reservation for Halpert."

"Right this way," she said, leading them to a booth secluded in the back of the restaurant Pam's eyes went wide as they made their way back. They sat down quickly as the hostess handed them their menu's, and Pam looked at him curiously.

"Jim, this place is…" she trailed off as she opened her menu. "Jim, this place is really nice. Are you sure?"

He pretended not to hear her, "What are you going to get?" he asked.

She smiled, looking down at the menu. _There are no prices._ _Crap…_ "A salad?" she tried, wondering how much a simple chef's salad would cost at a restaurant where there were no prices on the menu.

He gave her a look, and she swallowed, "please, just get what you want and stop worrying, okay?" She nodded, blushing, and looked over the menu. When the waitress came out to get their drink orders, she opened her mouth to order a water, but Jim gave her a look, interrupting her and ordered a wine she'd never tasted before. She smiled to herself, looking down.

_God, when was the last time I went on a date like this? I don't think I ever have… and I'm not even dating him…. Yet. _The waitress came out with a bottle of wine and poured their glasses, and she smiled at Jim. He smiled back at her, giving her a slight wink, before she heard the waitress ask her what she wanted to eat.

"Oh!" she said quickly, smiling, "I'll have the tenderloin of beef with pepper sauce on a bed of rice with miso soup," she read off the menu. He smiled.

"I'll have the scallops with the spicy garlic and rice, and the miso soup," he said, handing the menu to the waitress. He turned back to her, leaning closer. "Toast?"

"Sure," she said, smiling and putting her glass in the air.

He grinned, "Here's to being yourself because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."

She smiled, clinking her glass against his. _Took the words right out of my head, buddy_. "Hear, hear" she said, taking a sip of her wine.

"This place is absolutely beautiful," she said, looking around her at the art that hung on the walls, the delicate light fixtures. "I absolutely adore it, Jim."

"It is nice," he agreed, watching her face. She always got so excited about everything, and it was one of the qualities he loved about her.

She leaned across the table and whispered to him, "I have a tradition when I go to restaurants."

He grinned, leaning in closer to her, and whispered back, "What is it?"

"I always have to check out the bathroom. I keep a mental list of where the nicest bathrooms are." She smiled, and he laughed, "so, is it okay if I let you be for a moment. I'll be right back?" she asked, putting the pouty lip on.

He laughed. "Just don't ditch me, okay?" She smiled and nodded, hurrying out of the booth and toward the bathroom, a little bounce in her step. He sat there, silently, thinking about her. _I love it when she gets so excited. She's like a little puppy when new visitors come. _He chuckled to himself. _She's adorable, and perfect…_ He sighed, looking at his fingers as they drummed a pattern against the tablecloth. _This date thing is harder than I thought it would be, though. I never really thought it would turn out this way. I thought we were just destined to always be friends… I didn't think she'd actually start reacting this way_.

_Wait, Jim… She's not. She's just being Pam. She giggles just as much when we're not on a date. I'm ridiculous to think there's something there. I mean, sure, she tried to kiss me, but that was two weeks ago, and it was probably out of lust more than anything. I mean, she's had Roy around for forever, and now she gets nothing. I'd be a little frisky too._ He sighed, taking a sip of his wine.

_I can't believe I'm falling for her. Fell for her, whatever… She's not the type I thought I'd ever fall in love with. I always thought it would be some tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed business woman who was a tiger in bed… Pam's pretty much everything I didn't imagine. She's short, blonde, beautiful. Well, maybe not blonde, she has some brown and some red in there, but she's definitely not the dark brown almost black color I'd thought… but she's got great taste in music, and she's funny… And how do I know she's not a tiger in bed?_

_Woah, Jim! Stop it. You can't think about Pam in bed…_ He looked up to see her coming towards him, a huge smile on her face, her dress swishing around her as she walked. _Oh my god…._ She sat down across from him, smiling. "What?" she asked.

_Oh crap._ "I was just thinking that you look really great tonight," he said, _Wow, mouth, mind letting the brain in on what you're going to say next time?_

"Thank you," she smiled.

"You smell different," he said, sniffing a new scent of cucumbers. "What did you do?"

"Jim," she said, leaning in, her eyes wide in excitement. "They had a couch, and like, ten different magazines, and this whole basket filled with like lotions and sprays and lip gloss and everything. It was awesome."

He smiled, "So you sprayed yourself."

"Don't say it that way, it makes it sound dirty," she said, grinning. "I just used a little cucumber melon body spray. "You have to admit, it smells good."

"It smells very good," he replied, smiling. She blushed, "So, where does that bathroom rate on the Beesly bathroom meter?"

She laughed, "one of the best. Still not as good as Grandma's."

"Grandma's?" he asked, laughing.

"Yeah. Hers always smelled good," she said, as the waitress appeared next to him. She smiled, "Mmm that smells yummy." The waitress dished their food out, and Pam smiled, digging into her beef tenderloin. He took a bite of his.

"How is it?" he asked her.

She licked her lips, "Mmm, better than sex."

He laughed and she joined in, covering her mouth. She reached her fork over to his plate and grabbed some of his meal, sneaking it in her mouth. "Well, what about that?" he asked, chuckling.

"Divine," she replied.

"Is that worse than better than sex?"

"Yes," she replied, winking and heading back to her meal. He watched her, laughing inside. A comfortable silence fell over the table for a moment while their forks clattered against the plates, before Pam asked, "Jim, what were you like as a kid?"

"Hmm," he pursed his lips together as she continued eating. "I wasn't one of those kids you could put in a category or anything… I kind of was pretty much apathetic and laid-back about everything."

"What did you like to do?" she asked, and he pushed his plate toward the center of the table.

"Well, I played basketball, which you know," she nodded. "And I was in the chess club, so I guess I would have been in the geek crowd, but basketball saved me from that fate. I played the guitar, so I had my cool points. But I was just kind of that kid in the room that didn't really fit anywhere. A floater or whatever. Everybody thought I was alright."

"You were the middle of the cool scale?" She asked, smiling.

"Yep, that was me. I just kind of lived." She smiled, nodding, as the waitress came and cleared their plates. Jim ordered a dessert for them to share, insisting that she'd like it as well, before turning back to her. "What about you?"

"Honestly?" she asked, smiling lightly, the way she did when she wanted to tell him something, but only if he really wanted to know.

He leaned in closer, "honestly."

"I was the geeky, artsy kid that was always trying to be liked by the popular kids," she said, sighing. "I guess I was the loner kid."

"I would have guessed you were artsy," he said, smiling. "But the loner kid? No way."

"Yes way," she insisted. "I had like no friends. I wore jeans with holes and bumper stickers on the thigh and sweatshirts my Mom made for me."

"Wow," he said, blinking a few times. "I have always thought the geeky, artsy, loner bumper sticker kids were awesome. They have such character to them, you know?"

She studied his face for a moment, "Really?"

"Oh yeah, definitely," he said, nodding his head. "I seriously had a thing for them in high school. I thought they were awesome."

"Why?"

"I don't know, they were just so original and in your face with it. I mean, nobody else wore bumper stickers on their pants, but they did. It was like they were these cool, hip kids who could seriously get away with anything." She smiled, and he continued, "I really did think they were the coolest kids in school. Still do. I want my kid to be the geeky artsy bumper sticker kid."

She laughed as the dessert appeared on the table, "Well, my kid will be a geeky artsy bumper sticker kid no doubt, so…" she trailed off, and he couldn't help but think, _so there we go. We're meant to be together. _"Wow, what is this?"

"It's called the Bento Box," he said. "It's Valrhona chocolate soufflé cake, shiso syrup, white chocolate sauce and green tea ice cream all on a plate."

"It looks so good," she said, digging her spoon in and taking a bite. "Oh my god…" she trailed off.

"Better than sex?" he asked, smiling as he took a bite.

"God, yes." She took another spoonful, tasting each part of the dessert slowly, knowing it would be gone before she knew it. "Oh man," she said, after taking another bite, and he smiled, taking smaller bites to let her enjoy what had quickly become an orgasmic food for her. It took them six minutes to polish off the dessert, and each time Pam tasted a new bite, she made some sort of sound or remark indicative that it was indeed better than sex.

By the time the check came and they'd made it outside, she'd licked all of the excess dessert of her lips. She glanced down at her watch, smiling at him. "It's only 7:15, where are we going now?"

"We're going to walk there," he said, taking her hand in his. She smiled up at him. "It's only a few blocks down the road, maybe a 20 minute walk?"

"Okay," she grinned. "I can work off that dessert we just had." He laughed as they took off down the sidewalk. Every five or six steps she'd stop and point out something about New York she loved. They'd reached a traveling musician at one point and she'd stopped to listen to the music for a moment, leaning on him. He wrapped his arm around her as they listened, and then tossed a few dollars into the open guitar case as she walked along, smiling at the young man.

She was in thought as she walked ahead of him, and when he caught back up to her, he looked over and asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"Hank," she replied, smiling. "Do you remember Hank?"

"I do," he smiled. "I really liked Hank. He was a good guy." She smiled, nodding as they continued to walk down the sidewalk. He pulled her hand and they crossed a street, heading right, before he started up again, "did you know he was in a band a long time ago?"

"No," she replied, laughing. "How do you know that?"

"I saw him a few weeks ago," he replied. "We sat down to talk and he told me he used to play Blues, but nobody liked him much because he was white."

She laughed, "Where did you see him?"

"The shelter," he replied, "I volunteered there one Sunday. But he's funny. He sang me one of his songs. It was about some friend of his who'd gone to jail for robbing an ice cream man."

"Not uh," she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

"I'm not kidding," he replied, laughing. "I'm not sure if it's a true story or not, but that's what he was singing about."

"Wow," Pam replied, grinning. "What else did he tell you?"

"He talked to his daughter again," Jim said, and Pam smiled, her eyes urging him to go on. "She called him at the shelter I guess a week or so after we were there. He's going to go visit her for Thanksgiving and they're going to see what they can do about his situation."

"Really?" Pam said, her eyes shining. "That's great!"

"Yeah, it is," he replied. "He asked about you. Asked how you were doing and what you were up to."

"What did you tell him?"

"I said you were doing well, just working and going on dates with me," she giggled next to him. "He liked that answer. He kept talking about how pretty you were, too."

She blushed, "am not."

He squeezed her hand, "are too." She smiled as he pulled her across the street. She looked up to see a huge theatre in front of her, the word _Spamalot_ lit up in lights out front. "Here we are."

"We're going to see _Spamalot_?" she asked, grinning. "I've always wanted to see this! I've never seen a show on Broadway."

"I know," he replied, smiling. "You've never been to New York." She grinned as he pulled her inside, giving the man the tickets he'd already gotten for them. She took a deep breath, and he grinned, "Do you know where they got the name for _Spamalot?_"

"No," she replied quietly.

"There's a line in the Monty Python movie," he whispered, leading her to their seats, "that goes 'We ate ham, and jam, and spam a lot."

"Jam," she smiled, laughing. "You're too much." She sat down in her seat, and he sat down next to her, looking up at the stage and waiting for the performance to start.

* * *

She pulled the covers up to her chin, wrapping them around her body. Her jeans felt funny on her legs as she cuddled into her bed. Her camisole didn't do enough to shield her from the itchiness of the scratchy comforter on her bare arms, but she'd known from the beginning that sleeping in jeans and a cami wasn't going to be the most comfortable in the world. She reached up, turning off the lamp light that was on her side of the room, and faced toward him, smiling in the dark. 

He'd already turned his light off, and even though she'd elected to change before bed, he'd simply crawled into his with his khaki pants on. He'd replaced his button-down shirt with the t-shirt he'd been wearing earlier, but overall, he'd stayed relatively the same. He rolled over to smile back at her in the dark, and she whispered to him, "Goodnight Jim."

He smiled, whispering back, "Goodnight Pam." The room was silent as they both tried to drift off to sleep, but every few minutes, he'd hear faint giggling from her side of the room, and he'd chuckle to himself, before falling asleep to the soft lullaby of her laughter.

* * *

Let me know what you think! Review! And I'm enforcing the quota on this one too, just becuase I love O and have been looking forward to writing it for basically weeks. (Ask Elly). So, review, review, review. And I hope you love it. 


	16. O is for Orgasms

**BEFORE YOU READ THE STORY, READ THIS:**

This is a somewhat interactive chapter, to say the least. You'll like it most if you go along with what Jim and Pam are doing. Lucky for you, I've made it easy for you! If you go to my author's page, there is a link there. It's titled "Ode to The Office." Click on it. Download what you don't know. Whenever one of the characters tells the other to DO something, you DO it too. It's fun, I promise. If you can't do it, that's okay too. But it can be really fun. :)

On to Disclaimers: I don't own the Office, the color green, Walt Disney, pink flashlights, Dr. Seuss books, or anything else, really. I own a cell phone, a computer, and a pizza box. Oh yeah, and this story.

You guys blow me away with your reviews. Seriously, guys! Sorry this chapter is overdue. You hit the quota sometime yesterday morning, but between classes and trying to get your part two of this story up, it's taken a longer time. Please forgive me. :) Trust me? Heh. I'll try and get the next chapter up soon. No review quota this time, simply because I have school and haven't even thought to write it yet. So... Yep.

I have been looking forward to this chapter. So please love it.

Your Reviews (which are the same amount of words as the chapters, sometimes):

Henantz- Thanks so much!!!!  
ZodiacPrincess- the more the merrier! thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I love having new readers to chat with and get input from! So thanks!  
Alison- Wow, still blown away by the "there's no way this isn't true" comment. What a dream to hear!!!  
SmallTuna- Well, I would have to say... The only reason I can dig into your psyche is because I dig into my own. It's kind of fun and makes Pam seem more real, so yay. And tell hubby I'm sorry I deprived him of goodness! haha.  
Ashley- Oh good! I'm so glad to hear you enjoyed it:)  
Alyssamo- I love Cash Cab too! I watch it every morning with my 14 month old friend Eva! We love it!  
Ruli- wow, thanks so much! your reviews always make me smile, darling! O is for Onions, that's it. There we go. Haha. Hope you enjoy this one.  
Tamar- Wow, thanks! Better than sex sure is a compliment!!!! You're fantastic!  
Ash- Wouldn't they be adorable on Cash Cab? Mmm!  
Anon- Thanks! I went back and changed those. The sad thing is, I'm a Preist's Kid and I still spelled Pilate wrong. Oh well, go figure. Haha. Thanks for the help!!!  
KT- thanks so much!!!  
Katy- Ditto. As per usual, you've got me covered. Oh god, I need to nine ya!  
Queenie- Thanks so much! And for reviewing--always nice to hear from readers!!  
Mary- Thanks so much! Even preist's kids don't know their bible sometimes, haha. Plus, he was a dirty rotten scoundrel, according to angela!  
Kerber- The only way Jim is leaving Pam for a Saturday is to come with ME!  
Lulu- Thanks so much! I really try hard to keep them in character!  
Literati- N is for neaaah. I have no idea. N was hard to come up with!  
Kathryn- Actually, I didn't come up with the Cash Cab! It's a real game show on Discovery! Check it out! There's also some clips on youtube!  
CodeName- Oh man, I love Cash Cab too! I had no idea so many people watched it until I posted this chapter!  
Jord- Thanks so much! I really appreciate your review! I'm sure something will happen at grandma's wedding. What? Who knows!  
Meg- Who doesn't love Hank?  
Bravery- I'd get kicked out of the cab too, don't you worry!  
Dizzy- Glad it made it better! I'm not the brightest light in the tool shed either.  
Roy- Thanks so much! Thanks for the review :)  
Smiling-Oh I'm glad it's good! I had such a time picking what show to send them to!  
Toby- Thank you for reviewing!  
Dean- I want to go back to NY so bad!!! Grr. Live vicariously, I guess. :)  
Glam!- I'm falling for him too. Damn that Jim Halpert  
Coffee- YES! It is an actual question! How funny is that?!!? They must have replayed it the other day when I was watching it! I watched a few different episodes to get the questions. Actually, I think that one was on youtube!  
Christine- Pam is standing up for herself! Yay girl. And I'm not sure how you'll feel about this chapter...  
Elly- Shh. I wrote some earlier for you.  
HKB- I'm not responding to that.  
NakedlIght- So glad you loved it! They're getting closer to healing and happiness!  
Yabberli- Cash Cab rocks. JAM rocks. What else is there? OH YEAH, YOU ROCK!

* * *

She rolled over, clutching her stomach, a groan escaping from her lips that surely could have woken up the neighbors. She shut her eyes, trying to fall back asleep, but quickly realize that while her entire body was tired, she wasn't sleepy at all—she'd just woken up from a fifteen hour nap. It was just after ten in the morning, and even though it was Saturday and every fiber of her soul desperately wanted to go out with Jim, every fiber of her body was telling her she wouldn't even be able to get out of bed.

She reached for her phone, pouting as another series of cramps hit her side. _I can't believe I have to call in sick to a date._ She quickly dialed the number, a coughing fit starting just as the ringing began. He picked up quickly, "Hey, how you feeling?" he asked.

She unwillingly coughed in response.

"Oh, that good, huh?" he asked, a sorry expression in his voice.

Her voice was raspy, her throat raw from all of the coughing and throwing up she'd done the last few days. Her body felt weak from not getting enough food and being low on fluids. "I think I'm going to have to cancel our date," she said softly, sadly.

He picked up on her disappointment right away, and sighed, "I understand. It's okay, you should be resting."

"I feel really bad," she said.

"I know you do," he replied, and she could almost hear the love in his voice. "If at some point during the day you feel like you can get up, you should grab your laptop and email me. That way you can save your voice."

She smiled. "It's actually right here by my bed." She coughed halfway through her sentence, and he smiled, logging on to his email. Only a few seconds later, she got an email from him. She opened it quickly, reading it out loud, and then hung up on him abruptly.

**To: Pamela Beesly  
****From: Jim Halpert  
****Subject: Hi sickling**

Hey. We'll just talk on here. I don't want you working yourself up. So, when you get this, hang up on me.

**To: Jim Halpert  
****From: Pamela Beesly  
****Subject: Re: Hi sickling**

Thanks for the concern, Halpert. I still feel really bad about cancelling our date. I was looking forward to it.

You sounded a little groggy. Did I wake you up?

**To: Pamela Beesly  
****From: Jim Halpert  
****Subject: Re: Re: Hi sickling**

I was too, but it's okay. We can still have fun. Even if you do look like Rudolph. Plus, you're in bed. Which is farther than I've got you in any of our other dates. ;)

And it's okay.

**To: Jim Halpert  
****From: Pamela Beesly  
****Subject: Re: Re: Re: Hi sickling**

Yeah, I pretty much look like shit. You'd be quickly looking for an escape route if you saw me now.

And what's this fun I hear about?

**To: Pamela Beesly  
****From: Jim Halpert  
****Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Hi sickling**

Well, I have an idea, if you're up for it. It might be fun.

And I highly doubt you look like "shit." The worst you could look like is a clown, _maybe_, if you're lucky.

**To: Jim Halpert  
****From: Pamela Beesly  
****Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Hi sickling**

Okay, I think I'm probably up to it… As long as it doesn't make me throw up or anything…

Are clowns more appetizing than shit? Hmm… Thought to ponder.

**To: Pamela Beesly  
****From: Jim Halpert  
****Subject: A Dog Named David**

It shouldn't.

Okay, Beesly, the name of the game is The Office Soundtrack. The goal is to find a theme song for each person working at Dunder Mifflin. Sometime later, we'll make our CDs.

I've attached the list. You take every other person, but I get you and you get me.

Deal?

**To: Jim Halpert  
****From: Pamela Beesly  
****Subject: Re: A Dog Named David**

Okay, that game sounds pretty awesome. I'm going to start from the beginning with Angela.

Angela- _Baby Got Book_ by Southpaw

**To: Pamela Beesly  
****From: Jim Halpert  
****Subject: CDs**

What? I've never heard of that song in my life. I'm surprised you didn't pick Little Bitty Pretty One or the munchkin song from The Wizard of Oz or something.

**To: Jim Halpert  
****From: Pamela Beesly  
****Subject: Youtube**

Okay, go youtube it. Seriously, the video is awesome. You'll see it and think it's Angela. And stop knocking on short people. We're people too you know.

Can Angela have two songs?

Don't forget you're up. Creed.

**To: Pamela Beesly  
****From: Jim Halpert  
****Subject: Cell phones**

Sure, Angela can have two. If the second one is really good.

Angela- _Baby Got Book_ by Southpaw (dude, that video was hilarious. And so Angela)  
Creed- _Chemical Party_ by your man, Gavin

**To: Jim Halpert  
****From: Pamela Beesly  
****Subject: Bob **

Oh gosh… Dwight. This is such a hard one… There are so many to choose from…

Angela- _Baby Got Book_ by Southpaw (I know. That's why I picked it, dumbass) and, of course, _Gangsta Bitch _by Devina (Come on, just picture Angela while thinking Gangsta Bitch. Yeah, you love it)  
Creed- _Chemical Party_ by Gavin DeGraw (yes, that's perfect.)  
Dwight- _Everybody Hurts _by R.E.M.

**To: Pamela Beesly  
****From: Jim Halpert  
****Subject: Hmm…**

Well, when in doubt, go with cheesy pita day. I, personally, always think of Dwight when I hear songs such as _Hero_ by Mariah Carey… Or _Mr. Roboto_… or how about _Liar_ by Queen, from that time Michael made him stand up wearing the sign around him?

I'm skipping Jim. Who is that, anyway?

Kelly's difficult too. Not that there aren't any songs for her, but finding the perfect one is hard.

Angela- _Baby Got Book_ by Southpaw, _Gangsta Bitch_ by Devina (oh my god, if you listen to the song while thinking of her, it's hilarious!)  
Creed- _Chemical Party_ by Gavin DeGraw  
Dwight _Everybody Hurts_ by R.E.M. and I have to put up _Hero_ by Mariah Carey  
Jim-  
Kelly- _I wanna have your babies_ by Natasha Bedingfield

**To: Jim Halpert  
****From: Pamela Beesly  
****Subject: I wanna have your babies**

Wow, or we could also tack on _Hero_ by Enrique, and my personal favorite, _Everybody has something to hide but me and my monkey_. Great song. And how perfect is it for Dwight?

I have no idea who Jim is. He's a tough one to peg down. Mind if I skip him too?

That is the PERFECT song for Kelly. Seriously.

Angela- _Baby Got Book_ by Southpaw, _Gangsta Bitch_ by Devina (oh my god, if you listen to the song while thinking of her, it's hilarious!)  
Creed- _Chemical Party_ by Gavin DeGraw  
Dwight _Everybody Hurts_ by R.E.M. and I have to put up _Hero_ by Mariah Carey  
Jim-  
Kelly- _I wanna have your babies_ by Natasha Bedingfield  
Kevin- Toss up between _The Pizza Song _by Fast Food Rockers (the one that goes "A pizza hut, a pizza hut, Kentucky Fried Chicken and a Pizza Hut" over and over again) and _Constipated_ by Weird Al.  
Meredith- _One Hot Mama _by Trace Adkins, _Tequilla Makes Her Clothes Fall Off _

**To: Pamela Beesly  
****From: Jim Halpert  
****Subject: A pizza hut!**

Wow. Executive decision: Kevin can have two songs.

And seriously brilliant on Meredith's. Wow.

And that extra Dwight song: on the list.

You can skip me, but it better be good. I just thought of the perfect me and you song. It's from the Fox and the Hound. It's called _Best of Friends_. You want the lyrics?

Angela- _Baby Got Book_ by Southpaw, _Gangsta Bitch_ by Devina  
Creed- _Chemical Party_ by Gavin DeGraw  
Dwight _Everybody Hurts_ by R.E.M. and I have to put up _Hero_ by Mariah Carey, and of course, _Everybody's got something to hide except me and my monkey _by The Beatles  
Jim-  
Kelly- _I wanna have your babies_ by Natasha Bedingfield  
Kevin- _The Pizza Song _by Fast Food Rockers and _Constipated_ by Weird Al.  
Meredith- _One Hot Mama _by Trace Adkins, _Tequilla Makes Her Clothes Fall Off  
_Michael- _Pretty Fly for A White Guy_ by Offspring (give me something hard)

**To: Jim Halpert  
****From: Pamela Beesly  
****Subject: Mmhmm**

Ugh, I have the worst cough ever. I feel like crap. And I haven't eaten all day. I keep puking it up. Gross, I know.

Yes on the lyrics. And I found your song.

Angela- _Baby Got Book_ by Southpaw, _Gangsta Bitch_ by Devina  
Creed- _Chemical Party_ by Gavin DeGraw  
Dwight _Everybody Hurts_ by R.E.M. and I have to put up _Hero_ by Mariah Carey, and of course, _Everybody's got something to hide except me and my monkey _by The Beatles  
Jim- _Stronger_ by Britney Spears  
Kelly- _I wanna have your babies_ by Natasha Bedingfield  
Kevin- _The Pizza Song _by Fast Food Rockers and _Constipated_ by Weird Al.  
Meredith- _One Hot Mama _by Trace Adkins, _Tequilla Makes Her Clothes Fall Off  
_Michael- _Pretty Fly for A White Guy_ by Offspring (give me something hard)  
Oscar- _Rico Suave _

**To: Pamela Beesly  
****From: Jim Halpert  
****Subject: Our Anthem**

_When you're the best of friends  
Having so much fun together  
You're not even aware, you're such a funny pair  
You're the best of friends _

Life's a happy game  
You could clown around forever  
Neither one of you sees, your natural boundaries  
Life's one happy game

If only the world wouldn't get in the way  
If only people would just let you play  
They say you're both being fools  
You're breaking all the rules  
They can't understand, the magic of your wonderland  
Hu-hu-hu

When you're the best of friends  
Sharing all that you discover  
When that moment has past, will that friendship last?  
Who can say? There's a way!  
Oh I hope... I hope it never ends  
'Cause you're the best of friends 

I know. It's us to a T.

Angela- _Baby Got Book_ by Southpaw, _Gangsta Bitch_ by Devina  
Creed- _Chemical Party_ by Gavin DeGraw  
Dwight _Everybody Hurts_ by R.E.M. and I have to put up _Hero_ by Mariah Carey, and of course, _Everybody's got something to hide except me and my monkey _by The Beatles  
Jim- _Stronger_ by Britney Spears (I resent you for this)  
Jim and Pam- _Best of Friends _by Fox and Hound  
Kelly- _I wanna have your babies_ by Natasha Bedingfield  
Kevin- _The Pizza Song _by Fast Food Rockers and _Constipated_ by Weird Al.  
Meredith- _One Hot Mama _by Trace Adkins, _Tequilla Makes Her Clothes Fall Off  
_Michael- _Pretty Fly for A White Guy_ by Offspring (give me something hard)  
Oscar- _Rico Suave _(nice choice!  
Pam- _Polythene Pam _by The Beatles (payback's a bitch)

**To: Jim Halpert  
****From: Pamela Beesly  
****Subject: Wow**

You may call me Princess Hound.

And that's mean. Your song choice. Can you please pick something nicer? I'll pout. And I'm sick. There is snot coming out of my face.

Angela- _Baby Got Book_ by Southpaw, _Gangsta Bitch_ by Devina  
Creed- _Chemical Party_ by Gavin DeGraw  
Dwight _Everybody Hurts_ by R.E.M. and I have to put up _Hero_ by Mariah Carey, and of course, _Everybody's got something to hide except me and my monkey _by The Beatles  
Jim- _Stronger_ by Britney Spears (I resent you for this)  
Jim and Pam- _Best of Friends _by Fox and Hound  
Kelly- _I wanna have your babies_ by Natasha Bedingfield  
Kevin- _The Pizza Song _by Fast Food Rockers and _Constipated_ by Weird Al.  
Meredith- _One Hot Mama _by Trace Adkins, _Tequilla Makes Her Clothes Fall Off  
_Michael- _Pretty Fly for A White Guy_ by Offspring (that's what she said)  
Oscar- _Rico Suave _(nice choice!)  
Pam- _Polythene Pam _by The Beatles (payback's a bitch)  
Phyllis- _Brick House _by Lionel Ritchie (seriously. She's a brick house. I love her… but she is.)

**To: Pamela Beesly  
****From: Jim Halpert**  
**Subject: Ugh**

Princess Hound—

I'm sorry. Just because you have snot coming out of your face, I will change your song. But this is the only time.

Although, you can hardly call me mean when you picked _Brick House_ for Phyllis.

Angela- _Baby Got Book_ by Southpaw, _Gangsta Bitch_ by Devina  
Creed- _Chemical Party_ by Gavin DeGraw  
Dwight _Everybody Hurts_ by R.E.M. and I have to put up _Hero_ by Mariah Carey, and of course, _Everybody's got something to hide except me and my monkey _by The Beatles  
Jim- _Stronger_ by Britney Spears  
Jim and Pam- _Best of Friends _by Fox and Hound  
Kelly- _I wanna have your babies_ by Natasha Bedingfield  
Kevin- _The Pizza Song _by Fast Food Rockers and _Constipated_ by Weird Al.  
Meredith- _One Hot Mama _by Trace Adkins, _Tequilla Makes Her Clothes Fall Off  
_Michael- _Pretty Fly for A White Guy_ by Offspring (good one)  
Oscar- _Rico Suave  
_Pam- _This is Me_ by Faith Hill, _Something More _by Sugarland, or _Vienna _by William Joel. I can't choose.  
Phyllis- _Brick House _by Lionel Ritchie (you're too good for words.)  
Ryan- _SexyBack _by Justin Timberlake or _I'm Too Sexy for My Body _by MC Hammer

Love,

Fox

**To: Jim Halpert  
****From: Pamela Beesly  
****Subject: Orange Gatorade is Not good for upset stomachs**

Fox-

Thank you. I just sneezed on my computer. Lovely.

_Brick House_ was perfect. So shush it. And do you have something you need to tell me about you and Ryan?

I liked the songs you picked for me. They're all me. Perfectly. I added some for you. J

Angela- _Baby Got Book_ by Southpaw, _Gangsta Bitch_ by Devina  
Creed- _Chemical Party_ by Gavin DeGraw  
Dwight _Everybody Hurts_ by R.E.M. and I have to put up _Hero_ by Mariah Carey, and of course, _Everybody's got something to hide except me and my monkey _by The Beatles  
Jim- _Stronger_ by Britney Spears, _Ladies Choice_ from Hairspray…  
Jim and Pam- _Best of Friends _by Fox and Hound, _Best Friend _by Weezer, _If I had a million dollars_ by Barenaked Ladies (haven't you always wanted a monkey?)  
Kelly- _I wanna have your babies_ by Natasha Bedingfield  
Kevin- _The Pizza Song _by Fast Food Rockers and _Constipated_ by Weird Al.  
Meredith- _One Hot Mama _by Trace Adkins, _Tequilla Makes Her Clothes Fall Off  
_Michael- _Pretty Fly for A White Guy_ by Offspring (good one)  
Oscar- _Rico Suave  
_Pam- _This is Me_ by Faith Hill, _Something More _by Sugarland, or _Vienna _by William Joel. I can't choose.  
Phyllis- _Brick House _by Lionel Ritchie (you're too good for words.)  
Ryan- _SexyBack _by Justin Timberlake or _I'm Too Sexy for My Body _by MC Hammer  
Stanley- _Without Expression _by John Mellencamp

I added another me and you song.

-Princess Hound

**To: Pamela Beesly  
****From: Jim Halpert  
****Subject: Lamination**

Princess Hound-

I'm so sick of you being sick. L

Once, I bet Kevin a million to one odds that John Mellencamp wouldn't win an Oscar. If he does, I will be a very poor man. And that song is perfect for Stanley.

And so, here we finish our CD with some more me and you songs, Dwight and Toby.

Angela- _Baby Got Book_ by Southpaw, _Gangsta Bitch_ by Devina  
Creed- _Chemical Party_ by Gavin DeGraw  
Dwight _Everybody Hurts_ by R.E.M. and I have to put up _Hero_ by Mariah Carey, and of course, _Everybody's got something to hide except me and my monkey _by The Beatles, _Through the Fire and Flames _by DragonForce  
Jim- _Stronger_ by Britney Spears. _Ladies Choice_ from Hairspray…  
Jim and Pam- _Best of Friends _by Fox and Hound, _Best Friend _by Weezer, _If I had a million dollars_ by Barenaked Ladies (yes I have, but not Dwight's monkey) _Stranded at the Drive In _from Grease (because of our date), _ABCs_ (guess why)  
Kelly- _I wanna have your babies_ by Natasha Bedingfield  
Kevin- _The Pizza Song _by Fast Food Rockers and _Constipated_ by Weird Al.  
Meredith- _One Hot Mama _by Trace Adkins, _Tequilla Makes Her Clothes Fall Off  
_Michael- _Pretty Fly for A White Guy_ by Offspring (good one)  
Oscar- _Rico Suave  
_Pam- _This is Me_ by Faith Hill, _Something More _by Sugarland, or _Vienna _by William Joel. I can't choose.  
Phyllis- _Brick House _by Lionel Ritchie (you're too good for words.)  
Ryan- _SexyBack _by Justin Timberlake or _I'm Too Sexy for My Body _by MC Hammer  
Stanley- _Without Expression _by John Mellencamp  
Toby- _D-I-V-O-R-C-E _by Tammy Wynette (it's mean, I know…) so instead, lets go _Nowhere Man_ by John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr.

-Fox

**To: Jim Halpert  
****From: Pamela Beesly  
****Subject: SexyBack**

Fox,

As funny as Toby's first song is, I don't feel right about it… :( But the rest are magnificent. Especially ABCs.

I think my insides are in the bowl next to my bed.

-Princess Hound.

* * *

She heard her front door open, and worry wrecked inside her. _Oh God, who's breaking into my apartment? I'm going to get killed… Oh well. Oh God, I have to throw up._ "It's just me!" his rusted voice called from the living room, and she sighed, rolling over and groaning lightly, not because she was upset he was in her apartment, but just because she felt so bad. She heard him clunkering around her apartment in the fogginess of her mind, but she still didn't quite comprehend what was going on. 

He stood in her doorway, holding a bowl of soup, his hair sticking up all over the place, his t-shirt a size too big and his jeans a bit loose on him. "Hey," he said, smiling softly as he made his way over to her bed. He set the soup down on her nightstand table and placed the back of his hand against her forehead. "You're burning up."

"I know," she muttered softly, wanting to sit up but feeling unable to. The weakness came in phases. For a little while, when she'd been talking to him, she'd been fine, but now that he was here, she couldn't seem to move a muscle.

"I'm only going to stay for a few minutes," he said, and she felt her face fall. "I don't want to play Knight in Shining Armor."

"Jim," she muttered, realizing it had slowly gotten softer and eventually faded into the sky. "Please stay…" she said it so softly she wasn't sure if he'd heard it, but when he nodded, she couldn't help but smile lightly.

"Okay," he said softly, picking up her laptop and closing it, placing it on the floor. "Let's see if we can get you feeling better?" She nodded lightly, and he pulled her comforter off her legs. "You're burning up, what are you doing with this comforter on you?" She shrugged, and he smiled. "Where's your thermometer?"

"Cabinet," she said softly. He nodded, headed over to the cabinet and took out the thermometer, shaking it lightly before sticking it in her mouth. She sighed, and he smiled lightly, stirring the soup.

"I'll be right back," he said softly, and she nodded. "Keep that under your tongue." He went into the living room and came back a few minutes later with a ginger ale and some saltines. The thermometer beeped and he took it out of her mouth, wincing lightly. "You've got a 100." She groaned. "Can you sit up?"

She shook her head no, and he smiled lightly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into a sitting position. He handed her the soup and opened the ginger ale for her, leaving it on the nightstand as he went around to the side of her bed. He picked up the bucket, peering inside. "Eww," he said, and she smiled lightly.

"I know. It smells too," she said softly and he nodded, taking it into the bathroom and dumping the contents down the toilet, flushing them away. He rinsed it out with water and then sat it by her bed, as he sat on the other side of her, grabbing her ginger ale and the saltines.

"Let me know what you need."

She nodded. "This soup is good. French Onion is my favorite."

He smiled, "I'm glad you like it. Do you think you can keep it down?"

She smiled. "My stomach is a little bit more settled, I think." She held her hand out and he put out the saltines, but she shook her head, so he handed her the ginger ale. She took a sip of it, and then sighed. "I want to lay down again."

He nodded, taking the soup and drink from her hand and setting it on the nightstand as he got up, helping her lay down. "I'll take this into the kitchen. Are you going to try and go to sleep?"

She nodded. "Stay?" she asked weakly, her voice hardly audible.

He nodded, "Of course. Until you get better. Do you want me to put on a movie for you or anything?" She nodded, and he went over to her DVD cabinet, browsing the movies. "Which one?" he asked.

"Princess Bride," she murmered.

"As you wish," he said, pulling out _The Princess Bride_ and popping it in the machine. She smiled, and he picked her cell phone off the ground and put it next to her head. "If you need me, just call. I'll be in the living room."

He took her soup and ginger ale out of the room and left her laying in bed, the door open a crack, _Princess Bride_ playing softly in the room. He looked around the room, heading into the kitchen to get something to eat, when he noticed a package on the table. It was an off manila folder, and he could tell without picking it up she'd stolen it from Dunder-Mifflin. He smiled. _Atta girl. Stickin' it to the man._ He scanned the top of it as he opened the refrigerator, pausing when he saw his name written across it. Roy Anderson.

Curiosity overcame him as he stared at the bag, for the first time noticing white shreds of fabric oozing out of the opening of the envelope. He reached over, touching the material in his hands, recognizing instantly the fabric of her wedding dress in between his fingers. He was standing there, touching it softly, when he noticed a piece of paper on the table, close to his fingers. He reached down to pick it up, holding it in his hands. From the first word, he knew he shouldn't read it, and yet, every part of him was itching to do so.

He brushed his fingers over her writing, feeling a strange sort of connection to her, even though she was in the other room. He read her words slowly, soaking them all in.

_Roy,_

_I know you won't recognize what's inside the envelope. I wouldn't expect you to—I never did let you see my wedding dress. I think I thought superstition would somehow win and if I did let you see it, our wedding and life together would be doomed. I know, it's just a bunch of baloney, but that's how I felt. I guess I didn't realize we were doomed from the start. _

_I've been doing a lot of finding myself, these past few months. I've realized a lot of things about myself, but I guess the one thing I've realized most of all is that I was never me when I was with you. I was someone else. I was trying to be this person that you could fall in love with… A person that everyone loved and wanted to be around, but it never felt right. I was putting on this mask and letting myself go slowly… It was like I became a different person. _

_I'm not blaming you for this at all, even if it might sound that way. Really, I want to thank you. I know it sounds strange for me to thank you for breaking my heart, but I am truly grateful. Without that, I would have missed out on one of the best things in my life. _

_Here's what I know about myself now: I'm the artsy geeky girl who put up walls to protect herself only to see if someone loved her enough to knock them down. I'm the girl who thought nobody cared about her, the one that got a sick thrill out of dating the popular guy and becoming that girl in all of the movies… I don't know, Roy. I don't know why you were dating me. And I'm not saying that to put myself down, I'm just saying that I don't get it. I'm not your type at all. There's no reason for you to be attracted to me. I don't know. I just know that I was attracted to you for all of the wrong reasons, and for that, I'm really sorry. _

_I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm figuring out who I am now. I'm figuring out what makes the real me happy, and how to be comfortable in my own skin… And what that looks like. And who I really am. I've been doing a lot of thinking and readjusting my life, and I've started to get there. I've had some help figuring it all out, but mostly, it's just something I had to figure out on my own. I had to peel away the mask I've hidden under for ten years and start to really be myself… I guess I just want you to know liberating that feels… How invincible. _

_Anyway, I cut my wedding dress into pieces. It just seemed like the thing to do. And now I'm sending the pieces to you because I want to be rid of them… And be rid of the old me. The one that was never really me. I guess what I want to say is that I'm through being what other people want me to be. I'm going to be me from now on. _

_I wish you all of the happiness in this world. I really mean that. _

_Love, _

_Pam _

He held it in his hand, reading it three times before he let it go. He picked up a piece of her wedding dress fabric in his hand, running his finger over it. _Wow_. He looked over at the center of the table, for the first time noticing the vase that had caused such an uproar only weeks ago, broken and glued back together. He picked it up in his hands, studying it, running his fingers over the jagged edges. He closed his eyes, trying to picture Pam throwing the vase down against her wood floors, then picking up the pieces and tactfully gluing them back together. He could picture her doing it, not in a fit of rage as he'd imagined before, but calmly, as a gentle reminder. And he knew, looking at the vase, that he'd helped her. It was all he'd ever wanted to do, just help her in the simple ways he could. But he knew he had. Something small. A conversation over ice cream—that was all it had taken. But he'd succeeded.

He lit a candle and placed it inside the vase, watching the light seep in through the cracks. He quickly drew the blinds, shutting off all the lights, focusing only on the vase—even the sounds from her bedroom had dimmed. He watched the light shining, mesmerized by it, and for the first time, he understood why she'd done it. How amazing it must have been for her to find a vase, break it, and see the transformation. The healing she must have felt as she slowly, painfully glued each piece back together. The relief when she saw that it did in fact _shine_.

He opened the fridge, glancing at the clock. 5:45. Pam had been sleeping for two hours. He had no idea if she'd be zonked out for the night or not, but he was getting hungry. He grabbed a can of soup from the cupboard and began heating the water when he heard his phone ring. He smiled, hearing the ring, and instead of answering it, headed straight to her bedroom, knocking lightly on the door. "Hey there," he said, smiling at how pathetic she looked in the bed, an oversized t-shirt on her body and her hair in clumps on her head. "I see _Princess Bride_ is over."

She nodded, yawning, "I'm feeling better." He smiled, handing her the thermometer and she obliged, putting it in her mouth.

He turned the TV off. "Are you hungry? Your voice sounds a bit better. And you look better." The thermometer beeped, and she took it out, smiling.

"99, it went down," she said, grinning. "I am hungry a little bit, but can I maybe try some solid food?"

"Sure, we can try that. I'm making some soup right now," he said. "Tomato."

"There's some stuff for grilled cheese in there," she said, and he nodded. "Thanks for staying with me, Jim."

"Sure," he smiled, heading out of the room. "Oh, hey… Do you feel up to doing some graphic designing?"

"Right now?" she asked, and he nodded. "Yeah, I can do that."

He grinned, picking up her laptop and handing it to her. "Okay, I want you to make the cover for our Ode To The Office soundtrack." Her eyes went wide, and she laughed.

"Are we marketing these CDs?" she asked, and he grinned. "I think we'd get in trouble if we did."

"Neah, this is just a me and you thing," he replied, winking as he left the room, leaving her to her photo shop to create a truly brilliant cover design.

* * *

He brought their grilled cheeses and soup into the bedroom, setting them on the nightstand by her bed as she continued to work on the design. She patted the spot next to her, and he grinned, pulling himself up on the bed and sitting next to her, looking over her shoulder at the design. The background had lined paper, each song title scribbled in a sharpie looking design, random cutouts of staplers and pencils all over the place. He'd just finished the first half of his sandwich when she turned to him. "Okay, done." 

He looked back, smiling. "That's awesome, Beesly." She grinned, "seriously, it's really good. I'd buy it off a shelf based on the cover art."

"Thanks," she said, grabbing her sandwich and chewing thoughtfully. "Now we just have to make the CDs."

"Oh, I'll go get my computer," he said, and she shrugged.

"We can just use mine. We'll download all the songs I don't have," he nodded, taking the laptop off her lap. He quickly searched for all of the songs, and within an hour, all of them were downloading into the Ode to the Office playlist on her iTunes. "You have to remember to put this on your iPod," she said.

"Duh," he replied, and she laughed. She flipped the covers of the bedspread over her and started to get out of the bed when he noticed, stopping her. "Where are you going?"

"I was going to put on a movie," she smiled, but her face turned sour as she clutched her stomach.

"Shit," he said, reaching over and grabbing the bucket, getting it to her just in time to catch her puking so it wouldn't end on the floor. She smiled sheepishly, walking slowly toward the bathroom, placing the bucket on the ground. He set the food down on the nightstand. "Are you okay? Need help?" he asked.

"I'm okay," she groaned. "Can you put on a movie? Something funny?" He nodded to no one really, heading over to her DVD cabinet. He searched through the titles, pulling out _Office Space_ and setting it in the DVD player. He heard the sink running, and a few minutes later, the sound of her spitting into the sink.

He picked up the puke bucket, making a face into it as he saw the remainders of her grilled cheese sandwich, and when she came out of the bathroom and crawled straight into bed, he went straight into the bathroom to empty it the same way he had earlier. He set it by his bed, and then pulled the grilled cheeses out of the room, leaving only the soup. He came back a moment later with another ginger ale for her and a book, setting the book on the ground and handing the ginger ale to her.

They watched _Office Space_ together, as he made the CDs and she laughed along with the movie, quoting it randomly. He sighed, setting his laptop down by the time Peter and his friends were beating up the computer and laughed along with her at the absurdity. When the credits rolled, he looked over to see her yawning. He smiled and got out of the bed, shutting off the TV. Her voice was soft, "I'm about ready to go to bed."

He smiled. "Okay. What if I read you a bedtime story and tuck you in?" She smiled up at him like a little kid, and he could tell she was secretly enjoying the way he was babying her.

"Okay," she said, and he came over and sat next to her, pulling his favorite childhood book from the floor. He put his arm around her, and she snuggled up against him to see the pictures, and he smiled, reading in a great narration voice.

"Oh, the Places You'll Go, by Dr. Seuss." She squealed behind him, and he turned the page, starting his narration.

"_Congratulations!  
__Today is your day.  
__You're off to Great Places!  
__You're off and away! _

She smiled, looking at all of the pictures, thinking how silly it was that today was her day. Her day to do what? Get sick and lie in bed? It was okay, though, because in some part of her, she understood that it really was. Every day of the past few months had led up to her being off to great places. Forgetting the old, bringing in the new.

_You have brains in your head.  
__You have feet in your shoes  
__You can steer yourself  
__any direction you choose.  
__You're on your own. And you know what you know.  
__And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go. _

He looked down at her, smiling. She was biting her lip, staring at the words, and he waited on the page for a moment, letting her think through the words and the implications that came with them. He was reading the book in a different light, sitting on her bed, reading it to her. He couldn't help but think how closely it mirrored her life. How she did indeed have brains in her head, and feet in her shoes. And how, for the first time in her life, she was actually picking where she got to go.

_You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.  
__About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."  
__With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,  
__you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street. _

She smiled, thinking of where she'd been when Roy had broken her heart. How scared she'd been to take a chance. How she'd been so afraid to trust anyone else. After all, why should she? But slowly, she'd learned. She'd let him in; she'd let her parents in. She'd learned slowly to let go of her walls and let other people break them down. Sure, there were some things she still wasn't going to do, but she knew what those were, and when crunch time came, she knew where she wanted to be.

_And you may not find any  
__you'll want to go down.  
__In that case, of course,  
__you'll head straight out of town. _

He thought of how she must be feeling on all of these dates, watching him put together elaborate plans for her. He thought of how every now and then, Scranton just seemed too stuffy and small for them, and he had no choice but to take her out of town. And how, when he did, she always seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

_It's opener there  
__in the wide open air. _

She felt free without him at her side. He'd always been a sort of weight, pulling her down, keeping her from experiencing all that life had to offer her. It was as if she could finally breathe because he was gone on his own, and she was independent. She was able to do what she wanted.

_Out there things can happen  
__and frequently do  
__to people as brainy  
__and footsy as you. _

He thought about how she'd felt the moment she'd landed on his doorstep. How mad he'd been at Roy; how brokenhearted she'd been. How it had made absolutely no sense that bad things would happen to her. She was Pam. Pam. Perfect Pam. Nothing bad was supposed to happen to her.

_And when things start to happen,  
__don't worry. Don't stew.  
__Just go right along.  
__You'll start happening too. _

She thought about what she'd felt when she'd seen the lingerie under the bed. The pain that had engulfed her. How she'd ran to Jim's, and he'd comforted her. How she'd known before she even left Roy's that it was over. That this was the beginning of something new and scary. She'd never imagined it would be so exciting.

_OH!  
__THE PLACES YOU'LL GO! _

They looked at each other, giggling. Both wondering where the places they were going were.

_You'll be on your way up!  
__You'll be seeing great sights!  
__You'll join the high fliers  
__who soar to high heights. _

He thought of the vase. The conversation at Baskin Robbins. The "then I'll shine?" moment. How extremely positive he was that she would get better and that one day, she would be the best in the world. Her art. Her spirit. Her love. All of it, the best.

_You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed.  
__You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.  
__Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best.  
__Wherever you go, you will top all the rest. _

She thought of the way he'd looked at her art. The way he'd encouraged her every single day with it, telling her how good and talented she was. The way he'd taken her to the Met, and every part of his eyes had told her that he thought she was good enough to be hanging on the gallery walls. She thought about the napkin drawings and memo pad sketches he loved.

_Except when you don' t  
__Because, sometimes, you won't. _

They remembered the night she sat on his doorstep, crying her eyes out, a pillow on her lap. How she'd been so afraid and broken. How he hadn't known what to do to help her. She remembered the feeling of sand underneath her feet, the world spinning out of control as she tried desperately to stake her ground. He remembered watching her, feeling helpless.

_I'm sorry to say so  
__but, sadly, it's true  
__and Hang-ups and Bang-ups  
__can happen to you. _

He thought about the times he'd screwed up with her. Times he'd gotten mad at her and left her upset; times he hadn't showed her how much he believed in her and trusted her; times when he'd simply failed to say the right thing. How hurt she'd get over what he said.

_You can get all hung up  
__in a prickle-ly perch.  
__And your gang will fly on.  
__You'll be left in a Lurch. _

She remembered high school. How she'd had those art friends and she'd let them go for Roy. How they'd gone on with their lives, and slowly but surely, every one of those friends had melted away until it was only the two of them, sitting there, trying to make the ends meet. How she'd felt so empty and alone, wondering what had happened to the life she'd had before him.

_You'll come down from the Lurch  
__with an unpleasant bump.  
__And the chances are, then,  
__that you'll be in a Slump. _

He remembered hearing her tell him they'd set a wedding date. The way his stomach had dropped and he'd felt so nervous and lousy. He'd gone home sick that day, more out of heartbreak than anything else.

_And when you're in a Slump,  
__you're not in for much fun.  
__Un-slumping yourself  
__is not easily done. _

She thought about the day he'd proposed to her. How sick she'd felt to her stomach the way he proposed. How she'd known it wasn't right, but she'd said yes anyway. She thought about the fight the day she'd found the lingerie. She thought about how she'd ran away from the past and from everything he'd set up for her. She thought about the entire journey she'd been on the past three months. How she'd finally started to find herself.

_You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.  
__Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.  
__A place you could sprain both you elbow and chin!  
__Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?  
__How much can you lose? How much can you win? _

He thought about his proposition, how scary planning each date was. Knowing that she wasn't quite ready for this, not knowing if she was ready for that or not. Trying not to betray his feelings too much, yet, at the same time, trying not to seem coldhearted. Trying to be transparent without being overly vulnerable.

_And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...  
__or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?  
__Or go around back and sneak in from behind?  
__Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,  
__for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind. _

She thought about the inner conflict she'd felt so many weeks before, trying to figure out how to respond to these dates he was taking her on. Trying to figure out how she felt about him, but more importantly, if it was worth it. She wanted to jump in, but how far? How soon? She had no idea.

_You can get so confused  
__that you'll start in to race  
__down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace  
__and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,  
__headed, I fear, toward a most useless place. _

He thought about pulling back. Rejecting her. Rejecting the one person he'd always wanted to show unconditional love to. How strange and confused he'd felt after he did. How she must have felt too.

_The Waiting Place...  
__...for people just waiting.  
__Waiting for a train to go  
__or a bus to come, or a plane to go  
__or the mail to come, or the rain to go  
__or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow  
__or waiting around for a Yes or a No  
__or waiting for their hair to grow.  
__Everyone is just waiting. _

She thought about how she hadn't known what he wanted, or even really what she wanted. How it had just been days of waiting to figure out what was wrong with her, what was right with her, and what wasn't her at all. How she'd sat there, waiting for the miracle to happen, for her heart to miraculously come back together again.

_Waiting for the fish to bite  
__or waiting for wind to fly a kite  
__or waiting around for Friday night  
__or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake  
__or a pot to boil, or a Better Break  
__or a sting of pearls, or a pair of pants  
__or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.  
__Everyone is just waiting. _

He thought about how he'd sat there, just waiting for her to finally get it. Finally understand that he loved her. Finally understand that she was worth being loved. He thought about how long he'd waited for the moment to show her that. For the opportunity to let her know just how much he loved her.

_NO!  
__That's not for you! _

How she'd jumped the gun… How he'd pulled away.

_Somehow you'll escape  
__all that waiting and staying.  
__You'll find the bright places  
__where Boom Bands are playing. _

She thought about what her wedding would be like. With all of the music and bright lights and love. She thought about the wedding dress on the table in the kitchen, shredded and in the manila envelope. She thought about all of those dreams, dashed on the wayside.

_With banner flip-flapping,  
__once more you'll ride high!  
__Ready for anything under the sky.  
__Ready because you're that kind of a guy! _

He thought about her. The day he might finally get her. How it would feel to be able to love her without worrying about censoring his feelings at all. He thought about how it would feel to be bold with her. To just do what he wanted to.

_Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!  
__There are points to be scored. there are games to be won.  
__And the magical things you can do with that ball  
__will make you the winning-est winner of all.  
__Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be,  
__with the whole wide world watching you win on TV. _

She thought about high school football games. Watching from the sidelines as Roy and his buddies scored. The interviews on TV. The scouts that came to the games. All of the girls that squealed about her boyfriend. All of the kids that wanted to be friends with her just because she was dating Roy Anderson.

_Except when they don't.  
__Because, sometimes, they won't. _

She thought about losing the State championship senior year, and how Roy had been in such a bad mood for months. He thought about Mancala.

_I'm afraid that some times  
__you'll play lonely games too.  
__Games you can't win  
__'cause you'll play against you. _

They thought about Solitaire, sitting at their desks. She thought about the week they'd been fighting, how lonely it had been, not to be talking to him. He thought about the same, how much he'd missed her. Wanted to play a prank with her, talk to her, anything. But instead, nothing.

_All Alone!  
__Whether you like it or not,  
__Alone will be something  
__you'll be quite a lot. _

He thought about how much he'd hated leaving her to go to Grandma's. How anxious he'd felt, being hours away from her in her time of need. How stupid he'd been to assume she ever really needed him.

_And when you're alone, there's a very good chance  
__you'll meet things that scares you right out of your pants.  
__There are some, down the road between hither and yon,  
__that can scare you so much you won't want to go on. _

She thought about the self-realizations she'd had the past three months. That she was more than this. That she was pretending. That she deserved more than he'd been able to give her. That there was nothing wrong with her. That she was worthy of being loved. She thought about how they had shaken her world, rattled her up inside, and scared her. Hurt her, even.

_But on you will go  
__though the weather be foul  
__On you will go  
__though your enemies prowl  
__On you will go  
__though the Hakken-Kraks howl  
__Onward up many  
__a frightening creek,  
__though your arms may get sore  
__and your sneakers may leak. _

He thought about date after date. Putting his feelings on hold date after date. Watching her face date after date. Trying to be a gentleman date after date. Enduring the pain it had been to watch her with him, to have her every weekend and yet, at the same time, not have her.

_On and on you will hike  
__and I know you'll hike far  
__and face up to your problems  
__whatever they are. _

They thought about her new self realization. He thought about how much she'd grown. How she'd tackled the problem of Roy, the problem of losing herself. How she'd become a new person. She thought about how proud she was of herself for branching out. For becoming this new person.

_You'll get mixed up, of course,  
__as you already know.  
You'll __get mixed up  
__with many strange birds as you go.  
__So be sure when you step.  
__Step with care and great tact  
__and remember that Life's  
__a Great Balancing Act.  
__Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.  
__And never mix up your right foot with your left. _

They thought about the fight they'd had. How he had only wanted to help her, and how she had only wanted some of his help. They thought about balancing between letting her figure things out on her own and helping her figure things out. They thought about the future. The confusion it held for them.

_And will you succeed?  
__Yes! You will, indeed!  
__(98 and 3 / 4 percent guaranteed.) _

And the promise it held.

_KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS! _

They smiled, knowing that there were things on the horizon that were new and expansive. That she was going to get to know herself in a way she never had before. That he was going to finally get to love her the way he'd always dreamed of.

_So...  
__be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray  
__or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,  
__you're off to Great Places!  
__Today is your day!  
__Your mountain is waiting.  
__So...get on your way! _

His voice lingered on the last line, as he closed the book softly, climbing out of bed. He went around to her side, tucking the comforter around her body and smiling down at her. She was smiling back at him, and for a moment, he couldn't help but see the face of a child in hers. He shivered at the thought of one day tucking in a little girl that looked like her.

"Goodnight, Pam," he said softly, leaning down and kissing her softly on the lips, his hands cupping her face. The kiss was brief, no more than a few seconds, but when he pulled away, she was grinning.

"I have germs," she said softly, and he smiled.

"I don't care," he replied, leaning down and kissing her once more, a little longer this time. She cupped his face in her hands, staring into his eyes after they'd pulled away. "Sweet dreams," he said, kissed her forehead, turned off the light, and walked out of the room.

* * *

Do what you do best. Review. 


	17. P is for Princess Hound

You guys are awesome. Sorry, I'm just now getting to this. You wouldn't believe the hectic week I had--first week of school does that to you I guess... Having to actually GO to all of your classes! Hah. Anyway, 46 reviews and I am going to reply to them all. That will be a good hour! Haha.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Office, Post Secret, Pizza Bagels, Jim or Pam (sad day!), or the Three Musketeers. I do however, own one pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and this story. Lucky me.

Thanks to Elly and Katy for reading through/beta'ing/idea dropping with me. And thanks to SmallTuna for being the voice of Kelly!

Oh, and I completely forgot to mention that the soundtrack idea came from something my Jim and I played at work... Just like 20 Questions. We were very productive...

Reviews:

Alison- You're strange. Hah. Thanks so much for reading beneath the surface (the kiss) and commenting on eveeerything else. You're wonderful. :)  
Kerber- Thanks so much! I almost didn't do any thoughts between Oh! but I'm glad I did--you all loved it :)  
Ashley- Thanks so much! I had such a hard time with some of the songs and with the Dr. Seuss book! Glad you enjoyed it.  
Anon- Yep.  
Roy- Oh! Sorry, when I went back and read it I got that feeling too. I should have been more clear.  
SmallTuna- Heh. I love that book. My best friend is in Spain and she's going to get it for me in Spanish if she can find it! I'm so excited!  
Dancer- Thanks! The emails are fun to write, but HELL to format. FF is horrible with formatting.  
Katy- Yeah, the songs are really fun. They're in a playlist on my iPod. :)  
Lulu- Thanks!  
LunarPenguin- It is pretty swell for a book! Hah! I never even thought about ONLINE. Dang it.  
GlamGlitter- Thanks!! I love Gangsta Bitch with Angela. Just... Wow. Heh.  
Alljn- Thanks!  
Leah- Eh, that's what you would think. :) Hehe, well, i'll continue to torture you. Muahaha.  
Eagle- Yay!  
KT- Thanks! You'll see.. Relationship defining will be something that will happen over the next few chapters. They aren't quite the type to talk about these things. :)  
Shana- Thanks!  
Penguin Patrol- Aww! Thanks!! I really appreciate it! You can set your account to alert, if you haven't yet :)  
Nutmeg- Oh, I love BGB. We used to watch it every day in youth group. It's VERY Angela.  
AP- Okay, Green Eyes. NOBODY can find it. If you go to my author page, there's another link (I think it's titled Love is the Rhythm, or something like that..) it should be on that link. If not, let me know and I'll upload it to my divshare so you can get it. I have no idea how I even got it. It's seriously like in thin air.  
Danny- THanks so much! and BOF is my jim and I's song, and it seriously makes us laugh CONSTANTLY. Hah. It's even our ringtone...  
Moony- Thanks so much! You're fantastic!  
Dean- I know, I love that off-candor romanticism. Cough Cough. Kiss Kiss. Love it. Oh.. and you would think that, wouldn't you?  
Liza- Hah, I'm not sure why it is either. But thanks for reviewing!  
Jgrrl- Heh thanks!  
Yabberli- Dr. Seuss is incredible. You rock more. School is gross, I agree. I start my week from hell today at 3:30. All of my classes are MTW and I swear I'm gone from 8-midnight TW. It's horrible. Bleh.  
Squint- Perhaps... And glad to give you a workout on the abs. :)  
Dizzy- Hehehe! Great comment!  
Henantz- Aww thanks!!! I get excited when I see you update too! Somehow I missed your last three chapters! I need to go read and review--I promise I will soon.  
Ruli- I really appreciate your long reviews. Seriously. About the note (which is one of my favorite parts of last chapter, but my very favorite part was the vase... But, the note... I toyed with that idea for a while, because I know Jim would want to respect her privacy and respect her, but anyone would want to read the note. And it's addressed to Roy. So, he read it... And Pam's eloquence. I think it's something she's kept hidden because she's been with scraggily Roy (Case in Point: Who/Whom, Season 4) and also, if she's trying to get all of her feelings and emotions out in one letter, she's the type to make sure it sounds good. You're just great!!! Here's P... although I did toy with the idea of making it be called princess hound.  
Elly- Shush it, you. Haha. I hate your school. More than anything. TRANSFER.  
SmilingInnocently- Thanks so much! Both parts of that were difficult to write!  
JR- Heyyy Jillyree! Thanks so much for the compliments. And I'm a lion, but not a UNA one. :) You're great!  
Mrs. Kristine- Thanks so much! Wow, what a compliment! 3 AM! I love JAM too. Much better than Jelly.  
Literati- Thanks so much!!!!  
Dina- Thanks so much! Here's more!  
Kitty- Thanks so much!!!  
HeCalledMe- Wow, thanks!! All in one setting! Geez, I'd shoot myself, haha!  
Bravery- It was read at my graduation too! How fun! Except my high school graduation :) It's great, best story EVER.  
Maddi- Thanks girl! I love that song more than words. I was around when it first came out. That's how old I am. Back when you couldn't find it ANYWHERE. :)  
PrincessDeleon- Thanks so much! I really appreciate it! Intriguing story, uh oh... Haha.  
KathrynMae- Thanks so much! I want Jim to read me Oh! The Places You'll Go and then take me to those places, haha. BGB is perfection. We used to watch it in youth group all the time. Out of curiosity, where do you go to school?  
Monkey- Thanks!!!!  
Christine- Heh, now I'm going to lose you because I gave you the milk! Haha. Thanks for the suggestion, believe me, it's tucked away in my mind. :) And there were actually no orgasms, it's just a great word and it starts with O.  
Amanda- Cash Cab is fantastic! It's on Discovery every morning at 10 and night at 6. Me and my 14 month old kid (I'm a nanny) watch it every single day. It's so fun! And thanks for the Marriot correction--you're great! I love Gangsta Bitch. I just do. Nothing more to say about that. :) Orgasm is just a fun word. :) You wouldn't have missed that! Haha.  
Ash- Thanks!!!  
NakedLight- Aww thanks! Hah, I'm one of the few that honestly believes JAM hasn't had sex in the show yet... Eh.

* * *

"Are you hungry?" Jim asked her, eyeing the Subway stand in the middle of the food court.

"Not particularly," she said, looking around. He nodded, and they continued walking down the sidewalk, clothing stores, calendar kiosks, and bargain stores jumping out from every side. "I love their dresses," she smiled up at him, pointing over to a small store with fancy clothes called Green Eyes. "I just wish I could afford some of them," she giggled.

"Pretty expensive, huh?" He laughed, and she nodded. "Well, that's no reason we can't go take a look at them." She was already charging toward the front entrance when he finished his sentence, and he laughed, watching her head into the store. She was browsing through the infinite number of dresses, trying her hardest not to squeal out loud. She lingered over an olive green one for a moment until he appeared behind her. "You like this one?"

She nodded slightly. "Yeah, I do."

"Go try it on," he said, and she chuckled.

"I'd never be able to afford it."

"Do you buy everything you try on?" he asked, handing her the dress. He didn't really care for it all that much. It almost looked like a 50s cocktail dress, the way it flipped out to the sides. The neckline was kind of a strange cut, and honestly, he wasn't sure if it would be flattering on any woman. It was kind of a plain cut dress; there were no embellishments or strange drapings or anything that would catch the eye of someone, but if Pam liked it, he figured she should at least try it on. He wondered when she'd gotten such a strange taste in clothing.

She smiled lightly, heading into the dressing room, the dress draped over her left hand. He yawned lightly, thumbing through all of the dresses that really didn't appeal to him, before walking over to where the dressing rooms were and sitting in one of the big, oversized chairs they had out there. He waited for her to come out, yawning slightly as the time passed. He heard her calling from inside the room, her voice hesitant and soft, "I'm not sure if I like this…" She opened the door and stepped out, a look of hesitancy on her face. She was biting her lip and giving him a lopsided smile and he returned it, looking at her.

He knew he was staring. His mind was reeling. _How does a dress that ugly look so gorgeous on her?_ He kept his mouth closed to avoid the slight stutter he knew was threatening to escape him. _God, she makes that dress look…_ He licked his lips lightly. "So, what do you think?" she asked, twirling around. _What do I think? I think you're driving me crazy looking like that…_

"I think that's the wrong hairstyle," he joked, and she reached her hand up to pat her loose ponytail, stray pieces of hair fizzing up. She gave him a look that said _be serious for once, Jim_ and he straightened up, smiling, "I think you look great."

"Just great?" she teased, scrunching her nose and turning to look in the mirror. _No, not just great. You look like you could kill a man the way you look in that dress._ "I was kind of going for stunning, drop-dead gorgeous…" she smiled. "Ravishing, maybe?" _You have no idea…_

"You could pass for ravishing," he said, and she chuckled, smoothing the dress over her stomach. _God, go back in the freaking dressing room already._

"Mmm, but you just said great," she said, smiling over her shoulder and walking back into the dressing room. He sighed. _Thank god… I couldn't have taken much longer. So much for bad taste._

He got up and looked around the store, thumbing through dresses he'd originally thought were ugly, imagining her in them. How beautiful she could make them look. He was picturing her in a royal blue, knee-length one when she walked up behind him. "Are you looking to buy a dress for the prom, Jim?" she asked.

He turned around and rolled his eyes, "are you?" _Smooth, Halpert, great comeback._

"Good one," she said, putting the dress back on the hanger.

"You're not going to get it?"

"It's too expensive," she said, looking at the price tag again. "Not to mention, it doesn't make me look ravishing or stunning or drop-dead gorgeous. Just 'great'."

"It looks really great on you," he protested, and she raised her eyebrow. "I'm sorry, my vocabulary isn't that great."

"No it's not, but that's okay," she said, winking at him and turning to leave. He stood by the dresses, looking at the one that had caught his eye just a few seconds ago. She turned around when she noticed he wasn't behind her. "What is it now?"

"I think you looked really…" he trailed, and she could see him trying to think of the word, "…beautiful in it?"

"Thank you, Jim," she smiled, and nodded toward the exit with her head. "I'm still not getting it, though." He sighed and followed her out the store. She slowed for him to catch up with her, staying back a bit so he could take the lead. "I have to tell you something," she said, sighing audibly.

He looked over at her standing there, worry etched across her face. "What? What is it?" he asked, his mind whirling. _What could she possibly have to tell me? I've been with her pretty much every day for the past three months. What could have happened that I don't know about? Oh God…_

She bit her lip, looking up at him with fearful eyes, "Jim…"

"It's okay, whatever it is, you can tell me," he said, glancing around the mall. _This is a strange place to be divulging secrets…_

"Well, Jim, it's just that…" she bit her lip. "Mall doesn't start with P."

"What?" he asked, his eyebrows wrinkled as she grinned.

"Mall. It doesn't start with P. So… I'm not quite sure what we're doing here," she finished and he laughed, smacking her in the arm.

"I thought there was something seriously wrong, Beesly!" he said, and she smiled up at him, thinking he was kidding before she realized he wasn't.

"Sorry," she muttered.

He laughed, "no, it's okay, but thank you for the lesson, Mrs. Beesly."

"Hey, I majored in education, don't poke fun!" she said, grinning.

"Did you? May I ask why you're a receptionist at a mid-sized failing paper company, then?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"No, you may not," she said, laughing. He smiled and looked down at his shoes for a moment, "There weren't any jobs in the area when I graduated, so I took what I could find."

"Jobs have opened up since, though. It's been a few years," he replied. "If that's what you wanted to do, why didn't you just leave?"

She shrugged. "I guess I didn't want to miss out on some things," she said. He was silent for a moment, before she continued, "some friendships, you know?"

"Oh," he said, smiling, "I can see how you wouldn't be able to be friends with Toby after you left."

She smiled, "yeah, Toby, that was exactly who I was worried about."

"And Kelly too, right?"

"Oh yeah, definitely Kelly. And Michael and Oscar and Stanley and Meredith and Creed and Angela and Kevin and Phyllis and Dwight, too," she smiled, looking down at her shoes. _Or maybe just you…_

"Well, I wouldn't want you to lose all of those friendships," he said, and she nodded. "But, and I know this may sound weird since you _obviously_ didn't consider me in the equation," he winked at her, "but you and I… we're friends. We'll always be friends."

She paused, her forehead wrinkling. "It wasn't really you and I that I was worried about…" she trailed off.

"Oh," he said, discomfort and hurt in his voice.

"Jim, that's not what I meant," she said, stopping. He turned to her, his face downcast but some sort of slight anger, or something she couldn't quite place, in his eyes. "I meant it wouldn't have been you or I that got in the way of maintaining our friendship."

He raised his eyebrows. She sighed, continuing, "how do you think it would have looked? Even if nothing was going on between us… At least when I was working with you I had an excuse to hang out with you. If I was somewhere else…"

"What? You wouldn't have been able to?" he asked.

"Well, yeah… I mean, you know Roy…"

"Yeah, I know Roy," he scoffed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her face contorted in confusion.

"It means I don't like him," Jim shrugged. "Which you already knew. And have known for a long time."

She stared at him, taking in his facial features when he was mad. The lines on his forehead, the glint in his eyes. "Jim, I…"

"What?" he asked quickly, and she stepped back at the tone of his voice.

"I don't know," she said softly.

He sighed. "I just hate that he made you feel you had to stay in a nothing job so that you could be with your friends." She sighed. "I mean, God, where's the support?"

"You mean like the support you're giving me right now?" she said, glaring angrily at him and walking quickly down the walkways. He followed her, sighing. When he finally reached up to her, he touched her shoulder.

"Pam, please," he said, and she turned around, her face both fallen and angry. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to start a…"

"Yeah, whatever, it's fine Jim."

"…fight," he finished. "No, it's not fine. I just didn't think you'd get so defensive about him."

"Are you calling me defensive?" she quipped. He hung his head, groaning inside.

"No, I'm just saying I didn't realize it would hurt your feelings," he replied, and she sighed, walking down the walkway to a bench next to a gumball machine and an ATM. She sat down, and he followed her, sitting down next to her. "I just think it's a load of crap that you had to choose." She nodded lightly. "I mean, you should be able to have it all. You shouldn't have to give up on your dreams because some guy tells you to."

"He's not just some guy, Jim," she replied, mimicking his tone. "He was my fiancé. That's really different."

"For you it was..." he said softly, looking down. When he looked up, he could see the hurt on her face. "I'm sorry, it's just that I sat around and watched you just waste away year after year at this crappy job, and I thought it's because you didn't know what to do or whatever, but then to find out that he kept you from going after what you wanted…"

"Jim, it wasn't that bad," she said, and he shook his head furiously. "We all have to make decisions in life."

"But that's one you shouldn't have had to," he muttered.

"But I did," she shrugged. "And I'm sorry it upsets you, but I chose where I am now." He sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"Would you have made the same decision if I wasn't there?" he asked, looking at her.

"Probably not," she replied, honestly.

"God damn it," he said, his face in his hands. _Why is he taking this so strangely? My god… It's just a damn job. And I chose him._ "I'm holding you back."

"No you're not," she replied.

"Yeah, I am. I'm the reason you're not doing what you want to do. If it hadn't been for me, you would have left and done what you want."

"Well, yeah, but you're more important," she said, and he sighed, biting his lip. "Let's just let it go, Jim. I mean, it's in the past now."

"If something opens up, you should take it," he said, and she stared at him blankly. "I mean it. I don't want you settling because you think you're going to have to let something go."

"I like where I am now," she said, patting his hand. He groaned. "Okay," she said, a little more curtly. She was quickly getting fed up with his judgments. "I'm really not sure what gave you the idea that we're that much different in this area."

"What are you talking about?" he asked incredulously.

"Why is the stellar salesman _still_ at the mid-sized failing paper company?" He looked up at her and didn't say anything. "Yeah, I'm not as dumb as I look, Jim." He sighed. "I don't want you giving up your dreams either, you know? It's a two-way street." She stood up, and he followed suit, pulling her into a hug.

"I'm sorry, Pam."

"I know."

He looked at her for a minute, and she smiled.

"I'm sorry too, Jim."

"I know." They walked back down the walkway where they came from, before Pam spoke up again. "Actually, I think I am hungry now…"

He grinned. "Good. I want something to eat." Her stomach rumbled next to him, and he chuckled as she quickened her speed toward the food court. Within seconds he was struggling to keep up, finding her animalistic desire for food a bit much. "Could you slow down a bit?"

"Could you feed your date?" she quipped back, smiling, but slowed down to a stroll as he caught up with her. Her stomach growled again.

"My god, put a muzzle on that thing," he said, and she giggled, making her way into the food court and over to some restaurant he'd never heard of. He followed her, standing behind in line as she ordered something he couldn't read, let alone pronounce. He quickly ordered a _what she's having_ and poured himself a coke. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, knowing full well he had no idea what he was eating for lunch.

She carried their food to a small table in the middle of the court, placing one of the orders in front of him. He smiled, "yum." She laughed at him. "I've always loved this…"

"It is good, isn't it?" she played along.

"Yes, it's delicious. I love the taste, it's almost a mix of…"

"I know exactly what you're referring to," she smiled, taking a bite. "It's so good."

"What would you call it, you know, if you had to describe it to someone?" he asked, and she smiled, repeating the name that was on the menu. "Right, and what kind of meat did you get in yours? I can't tell…"

"Cat," she replied, and he choked on the air in front of him. "Chinese chicken go meow." He sighed, taking a forkful of the food in his mouth, chewing, a strange look on his face. "Do you like your squid?" she asked, and his eyes went wide.

He swallowed. "My what?"

She grinned, "your chicken. Really, Jim… It's just chicken and rice and sauce."

"Wait, I thought it was cat?" She rolled her eyes, pointing her fork at him.

"Just eat, loser." They sat in silence, shoveling Asian food into their mouths. After ten minutes and two full stomachs, she leaned across the table and asked him, "So, why are we at the mall? What are we doing?" She was grinning, and he laughed.

"Can't you just enjoy the journey?"

"No, now tell me where we're going," she smiled, and he rolled his eyes.

"No, but you can follow me to our destination," he replied and she sighed skipping after him as he threw away their trash and walked the opposite direction. After three minutes of walking, they'd reached the last corridor of the mall.

"So we're either going to Ruby Tuesdays, Claire's, Petsmart, or Cost Cutters?" she asked, and he smiled.

"How often do you come to this mall?"

"Hardly ever. Can you tell?"

"Yep," he said, and they turned down one of the walkways that led out to the cars. She was confused, until he turned into a small nail salon.

She couldn't help but grin, "What's this?"

He read the sign, "Paradise nails."

"You going to the prom?"

"Haha," he mimicked her, leading her over to one of the foot and back massaging chairs in the corner. "I thought you might like to get a pedicure. I hear you ladies enjoy such a thing."

She shrugged, sitting into the chair. "We usually go with our girlfriends, not our… Jims."

"I'm so flattered you think of me as a Jim," he responded and she laughed. He sat down next to her to keep her company, when two young women came out of the back, one of them grabbing her feet and the other grabbing his. He looked down, "oh, I'm not…"

"You're in the chair," the woman replied, and Pam raised her eyebrows at him, giggling. She was biting her lip, and her face was turning red.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking over at her. She nodded, a grim look on her face, when all of a sudden, her feet started kicking and the giggling commenced again.

"I'm sorry," she said between fits of giggles. "My feet are really ticklish." She was thrashing all over the place, and he turned to her.

"Think of Michael naked."

"Eww," she said.

"Dwight?"  
"That just makes me laugh more," she giggled. The woman holding her feet gave her a stern look, and Pam shut up immediately, biting against her teeth and wiggling in her chair. "Jim," she whispered, "I can't do this. I'm about to die over here."

"I had no idea you were this ticklish," he said, setting his feet in the water.

"I'm ticklish everywhere," she said, sighing.

"Oh, really?" His tone was mischievous, and his face told her he wasn't going to let that one off the hook.

"Shit," she said, and he laughed. "Well, at least I'm not gay."

"I'm not gay," he said, sitting up straight. "I'm just getting a pedicure." She rolled her eyes, laughing, as he continued. "So, tell me your life story."

"My life story?" she chuckled. "I'm not sure there's much to tell that you don't already know."

"Well, let's see. I know you have two sisters, and you're the middle child. You like to watercolor and draw with charcoals. You grew up in a brick house… You were the strange kid in high school… You had a mad obsession with New Kids on the Block in high school. And your favorite movie junior year was _Rebecca, _but you didn't want anybody to know that."

She smiled, "what else would you possibly need to know?"

"Just start talking," he said. "I'll let you know when I don't want to know anymore."

She laughed, and he glanced down to give the pedicurist a wink as Pam started talking, forgetting for a moment that someone was playing with her extremely ticklish feet. "Well, did I ever tell you about the secret back passageway my school had?"

"No," he replied, grinning. "Did you have sex in it?"

She choked on air. "Um…" He laughed, winking at her. "We used to hide in it during hide and go seek. Apparently, it was built back in one of the World Wars. It led into an underground tunnel for when bombs were dropped and stuff."

"That's really cool," he said, and she nodded.

"Yeah, we had a lot of cool things in our school. They remodeled it sometime in the 50s and they didn't do a very good job knocking down old walls, so there were these little spaces between the classrooms. Some classrooms were huge, and then there would be random little slivers of classrooms, like, the size of my closet." She grinned. "We did have sex in those."

His eyes went wide, and she winked at him teasingly. He laughed. "Oh, you're not serious."

"Not about the sex," she laughed, and he looked down to see the pedicurist with an amused look on her face. "What else can I tell you?" she pondered, rubbing her chin and giggling lightly at the hands on her feet.

"Tell me about your sisters. What did you guys used to do?"

She laughed. "Well, since Diana and I were only two years apart we were always hanging out together when we were little. Especially since Amanda wasn't around yet. But when we were both in school she had her own friends. She got really popular really quick. By the time I was in middle school she had boys picking her up every night and she had makeup on all the time. She was your regular high school beauty queen."

"Really?" Jim asked, his eyes raised.

"Yes, now don't go getting any ideas," she laughed.

His face contorted in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"She's the beauty of the family. No making out with her if you ever meet her," she replied, shrugging.

"When I meet her, I promise, all eyes will be on you," he said. She smiled. "Continue on."

"Oh, right!" she laughed. "So Amanda and I are seven years apart. She was a real pest when I was in middle school and she was always listening to my New Kids on the Block CDs which drove me nuts. And she was one of those kids that could put the two ugliest pieces of clothing together and pull off a look that the whole school would mimic the next day. She really liked clothes, a lot. So, she and Diana got along. They were like 10 years apart, so Diana was always the cool older sister that everyone loved. I was just the geeky, artsy middle child."

"I dated the geeky, artist middle child in high school," he said, as the hot water spilled over his feet. "Only for like a week. She didn't think I was cool enough for her image."

She laughed, "yeah, you probably weren't."

"Hey," he said, and she looked at him. "You never told me how you got into art."

"Really?" she asked in surprise, and he nodded. "Oh, well I guess I should tell you then." He nodded, and she chuckled. "It's kind of sad, really… When I was little, Diana and I used to color a lot. And, Diana was always so much better at everything than I was, and naturally I was a little jealous. Well, one day we were both coloring and Diana finished first and took it to show Mom and Mom just kind of brushed it off a bit. I mean, she told Diana it was beautiful and put it on the fridge, but it was one of those 'tell me about your picture' kind of things…

"So, I finished like thirty minutes later—and I remember Diana was really mad because we were going to go play on the swings but I took so long it was dark out, but when I went to show Mom my coloring page, she said it was the best one she'd ever seen. And I knew I was better than Diana was." He chuckled, and she continued, laughing. "So I just kept doing it so I could be better than Diana. And I guess I grew to love it."

He nodded. "That sounds like you." She laughed. "You're pretty competitive, if you get the chance to be."

"I am not!" she protested.

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not!" she said, and he cocked his head to the side, smiling. She stuck her nose in the air, grinning. "You stink a little bit."

He laughed. "Are you in third grade?"

"Uh huh." He smiled at her, and she grinned back at him. _She's too pretty… _His foot was pulled out of the water, breaking his gaze with her as he looked down, seeing he was done. The woman doing her feet was talking a mile a minute, and Pam was nodding, getting out of her seat and walking over to one of the feet dryers so her nail polish would stay. She'd gotten some orangey type that he didn't know what to call—there were so many random names for everything. Girls could never call orange 'orange' anymore… all of a sudden there were salmons and tangerines and who knows what else.

He heard a familiar voice behind him, "Oh my god! Jim! What are you doing here? Did you just get a pedicure? That is _so_ cool. I've been trying to get Ryan to get one for ages; his feet are _so_ gross."

He gave Pam a look as he turned around halfway through her monologue. "Hi Kelly, it's nice to see you," he smiled.

"Are you here with Pam? You guys are so funny! You are like girlfriends! Oh my god! Jim, are you gay now? I mean, that is _so_ cool if you are. We could go shopping, like, right now!"

"Uhh, no, Kelly," he said, his voice hesitant. "I just came with Pam for… support."

"Wow, that is so nice. You are so sweet, Jim! Ryan never comes with me and I come here all the time. Wait, why are you being so nice? Is Pam your girlfriend? Oh my god! She is! You love her! You start blushing, you want to have her babies. That is like the most adorable thing ever."

"Uhh, no, Kelly," he said, looking over at Pam and then back at Kelly. "She's not my girlfriend."

"Really? 'Cause you looked super embarrassed. Like, really, really, embarrassed. You guys should date, you would be _so_ cute together! Dating someone at work is _so_ great, and Ryan doesn't even come here with me, like ever."

"Yeah," Jim said quickly, "Let's talk about Ryan. What's he doing?"

"Oh my gosh, he just got a new Xbox, so he plays it like all day. But he totally lets me play, too. He tried to teach me, but it's just so hard you know? My hands are too little to reach those controls, so I mostly just watch and like, cheer for him and stuff, and sometimes, I fix him snacks, but not too much, because then he'll get fat."

"You sound like a great girlfriend," Jim said sarcastically.

"Yeah, I know, right? Thanks Jim, you are seriously so sweet. You should totally date my friend Tiffany since you aren't dating Pam. She's like, super hot, and she only eats a thousand calories a day, and she's a really great dresser too. You would like her so much."

He sighed, handing his credit card to the cashier as he saw Pam getting up from her seat. "Okay Kelly, we have to go. Pam has a date tonight."

"Pam, tell him he needs a girlfriend," she said as Pam made her way to Jim's side. He couldn't help but blush. "He's like _so_ cute... In a goofy way. Not as hot as Ryan, but still. And you already have a date so Jim can too, right?"

Pam smiled, "Yep. We'll see you later Kelly," she said, already making her way out the doors, dragging him behind her.

"Okay! Bye!" Kelly called after them as they hurried out the doors and into the parking lot. Pam laughed as she ran in front of him toward his car.

"You stink," he said, and she smiled, turning to look at him, her hands in the air as she yelled across the parking lot.

"Sorry! Blame it on the Mandarin Orange!" she said, and he rolled his eyes, laughing as he walked over to her, unlocking the car. He rolled his eyes. _Mandarin Orange, what kinda color is that?_

* * *

"Can I have pink please?" she asked, and he looked at her, raising his eyebrows. 

"They don't come in pink, Pam," he said. "They only come in assorted neon or silver and blue."

"Are there pink ones in the assorted neon?" she asked, peering over his shoulder. "I see pink! There are pink!"

"Well, yeah, but there aren't only pink ones."

"We can't just pick them out?" she asked, smiling. He shook his head. "Okay, then I want the assorted Neon. It's what, green, orange, yellow and pink?"

"Yes," he said, reaching for the bag of neon paintballs. "Now, put these in the barrel at the top of your gun." She nodded, yanking open the bag, half of the paintballs exploding from the bag and hitting the ground.

"Whoops," she said, and he rolled his eyes. "Can I still use them?"

"Well, you have to put them in your gun to use them," he said, emptying the blue and silver ones he'd bought for himself into his gun and setting the barrel cover on so he didn't accidentally shoot her in the face. He bent down to help her pick up the paintballs, emptying them into her barrel and closing the top when all of the ones that were able to be rescued were. "Now, do you remember what I told you?"

"Always wear my safety goggles," she replied dutifully.

"Very good," he said, smiling. "Carol never wore her safety goggles, and now she doesn't need them."

She laughed. "You sound like my chemistry teacher, Mr. Morton."

"Did he say that? We just had the big poster in our room." Jim smiled, putting his hand over her gun. "Now, you have to keep this barrel closed, or else all of your paintballs will go flying all over the place, and then you won't have any ammo." She smiled up at him. He was so cocky when it came to paintball. "So you press the trigger to shoot, and the paintball will go flying in the air really quickly. But make sure you aim at the other team. Don't shoot your own man."

"Thank you, captain obvious," she said, smiling.

"And there's a surrender rule. If you cock your gun at someone and they're within 10 feet of you, they have to say surrender. And that means that you can't shoot them. It'll hurt."

"Okay," she said. "Can we just play now?"

"Well, we have to wait for this game to finish, then we'll just join a team." She nodded, sitting up on one of the picnic tables under the trees and watching the game. She asked questions at things she didn't understand, and he answered them as best he could.

"I'm so excited," she said, as the players trotted off the field. He smiled, grabbing her hand and leading her over to where the teams were formed. She was jumping on the ball of her feet.

"Hey, this is Pam, I'm Jim," he said to the other paintballers. "Which team should we join?"

The men on one side smiled, each of them muscular, with tattoos on one arm or the other. "We'll take the lady," they said, and Pam grinned, raising her eyebrows at Jim as she made her way over to their side. The other men started walking the other way, and he followed them, heading the opposite direction of Pam.

_Oh crap… What do I do? I never thought we'd be on opposite teams. She doesn't know how to play. I have to go easy on her. Damn it. I was hoping to win today, but there's no way I can shoot Pam… My paintballs aren't even pink!_ The horn sounded and the men took off, hiding behind the inflatable walls and logs that littered the playing field. He saw her duck behind a cylinder as he slid into one himself, and he pulled his gun out around the side, firing at the cylinder she was at, purposely trying to hit it just to scare her a little bit.

The noise was deafening, and he saw one of his teammates—Ricky, he thought he'd heard—head toward a neighboring cylinder before being hit by a paintball. He threw his arm in the air, the sign for an execution, and hurried off the field, leaving Jim's team with only three players to Pam's team of four. Jim quickly shot one of the men on Pam's team, relief sweeping over him when he put his arm up in the air and hurried to join Ricky. He could have easily taken a shot at Pam and hit her, but he decided against it. He didn't want to hurt her.

Jim's teammate, Stephen, was running around the field, dodging paintball's left and right. Jim could tell he'd played multiple times. Stephen quickly took a shot at Pam, missing by half an inch, and Jim thought he could hear her shriek. He moved up the field, catching a glimpse of Stephen in just enough time to see him knock out another one of Pam's players, making it the three of them against Pam and her lone friend.

However, that didn't last long as Pam's lone teammate quickly picked off Stephen and Jim's other teammate, George. Pam hadn't moved from her spot in the back cylinder, but her teammate had, moving up to where Jim could almost see him well enough to be sure he had a target. He could see the back of his legs moving between the obstacles, trying to rush over to the next, but keeping an eye behind him on Pam. She was moving up the field, unbeknownst to Jim as he watched the large, bulky man. She'd reached the other side of Jim's base, four sideways cylinders put together, spiraling from the middle, and was watching him, as he shot at her teammate. She grinned, knowing he had no idea where she was, and followed his moves as he slowly made his way around the second cylinder. She'd started out two cylinders away, but now she could see him out of the corner of her eye if she tried hard enough.

She watched him as she looked around, _he's taking this so seriously… Look at those calves… I think a little pink might look good on him…_ before stepping out, and smiling. "Surrender."

He turned around, surprise etched on his face, and just as he did, a paintball exploded from her gun, hitting him square in the chest. She looked down at her gun, mortified. _I didn't pull the trigger… Did I? Heh._ He clutched his chest, "Oh God, damnit Pam."

"Sorry," she shrugged sheepishly. "I didn't mean to…" He nodded. "_Really_, I guess it slipped." She quickly reached over and put the barrel cover on, laughing on the inside.

"It's okay," he said, raising his hand in the air to signify his execution and trotting off the field.

"So, you were taking it easy on me, weren't you Halpert?"

"No, of course not," he said, flustered.

"Oh, admit it Halpert." He shook his head. "Well, I owned you. You're my bitch now," she replied, and he rolled his eyes, chuckling. "If I were you," she leaned up, whispering in his ear, "I'd go with the 'taking it easy on her' thing… It makes you seem more masculine."

He grinned, sticking his tongue out at her.

"Better be careful, your tongue can get stuck like that," she said automatically, and he smiled.

"Okay, _mom_." He replied, and she smiled.

"C'mon, let's go play some more. I have a huge desire to kick your ass _again_," she said, and he laughed as she was running back onto the field and over to her side, talking to the men on the team. He shook his head, returning to the baseline for his team.

"Dude, what was up with that? She's a girl, man," one of the guys said.

"I was going easy on her, man," he replied. "Can't beat up the girl, it doesn't look great, if you know what I mean." He caught her looking at him, and even across the huge distance between them, he could see the faint beginnings of the famous Pam Beesly smile he knew and loved.

* * *

He glanced over at her in the front seat. She was singing along to the New Kids on the Block CD she'd just put into his CD player (only after she'd realized that he knew about her obsession had she thought to torture him with it). Her voice was sweet and soft. It certainly wasn't the best voice he'd ever heard, but it was good. Especially compared to the "music" that was coming out of his CD player. 

He couldn't help but chuckle lightly at how colorful she was. Colorful. That was a good word to describe Pam. You might think she was just black and white with some grays, but the truth was, if you knew Pam, really knew her, she was an extremely colorful person. That was only escalated by the splattered bits of paint all over her shirt, and the paint that no doubt was caking to her hair at this very moment. He chuckled.

_She ran over to him, out of breath, the entire bag of paintballs in her hand. "What do we do with these?" she asked._

_"Save them for the next time we come to play," he shrugged. She nodded, and then stopped for a moment, grinning. His eyes widened. _Oh God, what is that look for.

_He turned toward her in just enough time to see her hit his head, hard, letting a paintball explode into his hair. "Oh, you're dead!" he laughed, picking her up into his arms and taking a few paintballs at a time from his own bag, smashing them in her hair. She gasped as the paint ran down her cheeks a bit, but he just grinned before letting her free._

_"You're gonna pay for that, Halpert!" she screamed, throwing her paintballs at him, hard. He laughed as they bounced off his chest, some of them breaking, most of them not. _

_"Come and get me, Beesly," he said, running away as she ran after him, a small bag of paintballs in her left hand. She finally caught up with him and jumped on his back, piggy-backing him as she exploded paintballs in his hair, down his back, behind his ear. He had a real dilemma—he didn't want to have paint all over his body, but he surely didn't want to drop her on the ground. He grinned. "Okay, Beesly," he said, and he could feel her smile behind him. "You have until the count of three to get off my back or I'm dropping your ass."_

_"Oh you would not…"_

_"1."_

_"You're not going to do it…"_

_"2."_

_"Oh come on Jim."_

_"Thr….." he started, letting one hand go of her ankles._

_"No! Jim! Don't!" she shrieked, as he let the other one go. _

_"ee." She fell to the ground with a bit of a thud and he turned around, shrugging. "I warned you."_

_"I hate you," she said, smiling. He laughed, kneeling down beside her. She reached for her paintball bag to get more out, but he caught her hands, staring at her. She softened, letting her hand to fall to the ground, when he picked up his paintball bag and smashed all of the paintballs inside it against her head, then opened it, letting the paint dribble out, painting her entire head in silver blues and grays. He then picked up her paintball bag and did the same thing, adding some neon colors to the mix. She stared at him, her mouth agape, as the paint dripped down the sides of her head._

_"I guess we'll have to buy more paint next time," he shrugged, and she smiled, taking his hand to help herself up._

She was staring at him. He'd been staring at her. _Shit, Jim… be more careful where you put those things._ "What are you staring at?" she asked, instinctively backing away and crossing her arms across her chest.

"I was just thinking that you should permanently dye your hair those colors," he said. _Smooth, Halpert, real smooth._ "They go well with your eyes."

"Hardy har har," she mimicked him, and he grinned. "I would never dye my hair neon pink."

"You wouldn't?" he asked, finding it amusing that she thought he didn't know that. "What about neon green, or orange?"

She pondered it for a moment, "I might be persuaded," she said, raising her eyebrows, a smile on her face. "Of course, I am just kidding."

He laughed, "yeah, I know. I have a feeling you're probably going to go the natural route for pretty much all of your adult life, yeah?"

"Honey blonde looks good on me," she said, "that's why it's my hair color."

"I know," he said, nodding. "It looks good on you, but I think there are plenty of other variations that would as well." She looked up at him, confused. "So if you ever wanted to dye it a more normal color, I don't think it would upset anybody."

"Oh you don't?" she teased.

"Well, just look at how well you're pulling off neon and silver and blue. Those are six hard colors to pull off, and you can pull off every single one… Must be because you're an artist."

"I would hardly call myself an artist," she said. "I just like to draw and paint."

"You're an artist, Beesly," he said, and she looked at him, a slight smile on her face. "You're not doing fridge art."

"Really? I'm not sure I agree with you there," she said, trailing off and looking out the window for a moment. He was about to ask her to look back when she turned back to him, smiling. _Wow, she's willingly meeting my eyes when we talk about this… Who is this fancy new Beesly?_

"Well, I certainly believe it's not fridge art," he said. "I definitely think you could sell your paintings."

She laughed. "Yeah, maybe to Michael."

"No," he corrected her. "And I'm not just saying this because I'm your friend and I want to make you feel better. I think if you kept working on your art and put yourself out there, you could really do well. I think you're _that_ good."

He turned to her, looking her in the face as he turned off the car at their destination. She was meeting his gaze, and for a moment, he thought he saw fear in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Really?" she asked strongly. It wasn't a weak question like it normally was, and it wasn't a question that was designed to bring in more information or more compliments, it was more of a challenge. It was her way of saying, _if you're lying to me, come clean now._

"Pam, I honest to God believe you are a phenomenal artist," he said, and she took a deep breath. "And I'm telling you because I don't think anyone's ever told you how good you are, but you need to know. Your stuff seriously looks like something we would see at an art gallery or framed in someone's room. It's really good."

She smiled and nodded. No thank yous, no you're welcomes. Just a nod and a smile. He was okay with that—all he really wanted her to do was acknowledge that at least someone thought her art was worth it. Why keep doing it if nobody likes it? "So, what are we doing at the bookstore?" she asked. "You have to get a new Dr. Seuss book? If so, I'm quite partial to _Yertle the Turtle_."

He laughed, "Yeah, _Yertle_ is pretty excellent. But actually, I want to show you one of my favorite books. I have no doubt in my mind that you'll fall in love with it."

"Why are we going to the bookstore?" she asked. "Don't you have it?"

"I do. I only have one of them, though. There are four. And I like to read them in the bookstore first because sometimes you get a little extra for what it's worth." They climbed out of the car and walked toward the door of the bookstore.

"Okay, so what book is this? Are these?" she asked, confused.

He opened the door for her, "have you ever heard of Post Secret?" she shook her head no. He smiled, "I thought you hadn't, otherwise, you'd be addicted to it." She smiled. "Basically, the story is that a few years ago this guy named Frank started this art project. He took hundreds of blank postcards and left them around town and gave them to people. He asked them to write a secret on the card—something they'd never told anybody—and send it to him, anonymously."

She smiled, "that sounds kind of cool…"

"I'm not done," he smiled, and she listened to him. "So, these people wrote their secrets down, decorated the cards, and sent them to Frank. And he got so many the first week that he just started collecting them. And the whole thing spread throughout the country and to other parts of the world, so he started this website, where he uploads like 20 of them from the past week on there for everyone to read."

"Peoples secrets? Out in the open?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Well, he says it's a sort of healing for the people that send them in. They physically let go of a secret, and some of them might help other people," he said.

"Okay," she replied, "So what does that have to do with a bookstore?"

He smiled. "Frank got so many that he really loved, that he took out his favorite ones and published a book with them. He's published four since then. I have the latest one. I need to get the others."

"Wait, so what comes extra inside the books sometimes?" she asked as he picked up one of the books he didn't have, a coffee table book and led her over to the kids section. She smiled as he sat down against the wall, patting the spot next to him. She sat next to him, and he opened the front cover, pulling out a postcard.

"Sometimes, people come in here and leave their own postcards," he said, and she smiled. He pulled one out, reading out loud a postcard with a picture of a tree in the background, "Sometimes I wish this tree had a swing attached. Then maybe I wouldn't be so lonely as an adult." She let out a soft sound, and he turned to her, perplexed. "What?"

"It's sad."

"I didn't really get it," he admitted, and she smiled lightly.

"It's the tree from the house she grew up in. She's saying if the tree had a swing attached to it, maybe kids would have played with her and she would have grown up to be happy… Maybe she'd have friends."

"Oh," he sighed, opening the front page. "You ready?"

"Yes," she said. "I think I'm already addicted." He turned to a yellow page with two stick figure, a man and a woman. Under the man, someone had written in red cursive _I love him._ And then over the woman, _He loves her._ It pained him slightly. _God, can you sum up me and Pam any better, Mr. PostSecret man? Just switch around the hers and hims._

She flipped through the pages, noticing one with candy wrappers printed on it. She laughed, "I borrow other people's kids so I can go trick or treating. That reminds me of me. Remember when I got that bowl of candy and put it out instead of jellybeans to see if a kid might like me." He laughed and she smiled. "I was so scared I wasn't going to be a good mother because I didn't have any experience with kids."

He smiled, "well, that's certainly not true." She smiled, and he continued flipping. They came to a picture of black and white converses, newspaper clippings spelling out the secret, and they both said in unison, "When someone steps on my feet, I say 'sorry'." She smiled and looked at him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I totally do that."

"Me too," he replied, laughing. "It's not my fault my foot was under theirs, but I still do it." He kept flipping pages, and she lingered over a photograph of kids out to sea, the words _I'm afraid to grow up because sometimes it seems things will never feel this beautiful again_ sprawled out in handwriting. She touched the photograph lightly, tears threatening to sting her eyes. _Why is this making me feel this way? I mean, yeah, sure, that's how I'm feeling, but still… It's just a postcard…_

"Hey," Jim said, turning to her and smiling. "These are in no way, shape, or form the best years of your life."

"So what were?" she asked, watching the kids in the picture.

He shrugged, "you haven't had them yet." He flipped the page, and she kept watching the secrets, her heart feeling lighter and heavier at the same time. _I wonder if that's true. God, I hope it is._

She laughed at the funny ones about a child believing she'd go to Hogwarts, or someone who believed in Santa Claus until he was 10. She smiled at a few amusing ones, was embarrassed at the ones about sexual fetishes or positions… Her heart darkened as she hit the ones about people looking back at their childhood with sadness. _Am I one of those people? I don't want to be…_ She sighed, reading them as he flipped pages, commenting on them every now and then, but mostly, just watching.

He flipped to a picture of a wedding cake, red bows made of icing around the layer, and a man and woman on the top, centered but tilting. The words were scratched on the top, like someone had gone over each line with a pen multiple times, the words _I married the wrong man_ jumping out of the page at him.

"Wow," she said, smiling over at him. "That one's a little…"

"Close."

"Sad," she said, looking at him. He smiled down at her, and his eyes looked sadder than normal. "What, Jim?"

"It's just," he said, pausing before starting again. "Do you ever wonder what your future would have been like?"

"With Roy?" she asked, and he nodded. She shrugged, "I imagine it would have been like our past. He's not the type that really changes a whole lot."

He sighed. "I'm glad you didn't marry him. I think you would have been miserable." She nodded slightly, her forehead wrinkling. "You just didn't seem happy with him." She looked up at him, and he looked at her face. She looked sad, confused, angry… He didn't quite know what. "What?"

"Why didn't you say anything?" she asked, her voice soft and hurt.

"Say anything?" he asked.

"Why didn't you say anything about how miserable and unhappy I looked, or how much you didn't like him? Or how he was so obviously wrong for me? If you knew all that, why didn't you say anything?" she asked.

"You wouldn't have done anything about it," he said and she shook her head.

"Maybe if I knew someone else saw it, I might have gotten up and left. You would have called attention to it."

"It wasn't my place," he said. "It's your life, you should be able to do what you want to do."

"As my friend, you should tell me when you think I'm making the biggest mistake of my life," she said softly.

"I was trying to support you," he said, broken and defeated.

"You were only supporting my mistake," she said, turning back to the book and sighing. She rested her head against his shoulder. "Next time, I want you to say something. What if I'd gone through with it?"

He nodded. "I just didn't want to jeopardize our friendship."

She nodded. "I understand that." They were silent for a moment, before she laid her head against his shoulder once more. He put his arm around her and kept flipping the pages, laughing with her at secrets and crying with her at others. By the end of the book, he felt closer and more exposed to her than he ever had before.

* * *

Any ideas for Q, please let me know. I have one or two, but eh... 

Review, review!! With ideas, comments, corrections, whatever it may be.


	18. Q is for Questions

Hopefully, I can remember everyone to credit. CountryCutie, Kerber, Small Tuna, Elly, Darth Avery, Anon.

Reviews:

JRH- Hah, true... Too much Dwight, though. Haha. Thanks for your ideas--that was just a little too fast for what I'm envisioning for the story! However, I did already have a few of your ideas, and they'll appear in later chapters, maybe... Thanks though!  
Kerber- Thanks for your ideas! I love Post Secret too. It's phenomenal. There's a new one up that is SO pam its unbelievable.  
AP- It is an invisible song. I'll go to DivShare NOW and upload it... hopefully. And yeah, I totally make Pam and Jim have my own passions... i'm not the best girly-girl example ever, haha. I've never found a hidden postcard... I want to though. maybe i'll go tomorrow and drop mine off!  
Eagle- Hah, I loved that line too! thanks!  
Katy- YES on Post Secret, lol... This is the only Office fic im reading (or writing, dang it) right now too. lol. 20 Questions- yeah, dare to dream! I've had enough of THAT game! hahahaha.  
Dancer- Jim with a pedicure. Yummy.  
DeanParadise- I know, right?!  
Darth Avery- Are you? I remember your sn. Maybe it's from the updates. Oh well. Thanks fr the idea! I planned on using Quiz... AND I DID USE QUEST! Hah.  
Amanda- Jim the metrosexual! Hillariousss. And PS is in fact real! I have never made a postcard, but I am planning on it soon.  
ForRomance- Thanks! I try hard to please! You'll see more about them dating/not dating, but good eye with the Kelly thing! And, would Jim lie??  
Glam- Ugh, im not a LJ secret fan! But thats alright. Jim will change shortly, but thanks! Quiche! Haha!  
Coffee- You're fun! Thanks!!! I almost used queue.  
DM- you're lame. and thanks :)  
Brneyedgirl- A) love your penname b) aww thanks! that's a great compliment, that you can see it all! hopefully this won't deter that too much. c) we can all hope re: writers strike  
Ruli- they do in fact exist! and paintballing is awesomeeeee... and i loved P... but not as much as previous chapters. :)  
Maddi- You'll see. It's kind of in this chapter, more so in the next. I'm glad you picked up on it, though. And yes, PS is a book. you can read them online at postsecret dot com.  
Mrs. Kristine Potter- Aww yay. Here's the next one.  
Christine- sorry for the delay, hon! There's more explanation for the bf/gf thing this chapter... I mean, let's be honest... are they the type to talk about this stuff? just stick with me..  
Jrrgrrl- Me too! I love PS so much. I want to marry it.  
KT- Thanks! Kelly seemed to be a hit, lol!  
Allison- Thanks! Queen :) Wrong kind though!  
Yabberli- Yeah, I can beat you. I got shot in the THROAT!. Yes, the throat. Where a boy's adams apple is. ERR.  
Squint- Quebec! Hah. Kelly is scary in general... And thank you, thank you.  
Hamrensel- You may... you may not.. we'll see. Everyone loves Post Secret! it's sweeping the nation!  
SmallTuna- Yes you are! Grandma's getting married much later :)  
Ashley- Pam is an awesome paintballer. Duh! Hahaha.  
Alyssa- Woah! You made it into this chapter.. Kind of... And post secret is wonderful.  
KathrynMae- Post secret is awesome, and Kelly is fantastic! Geneva! I've heard of it!  
Danny- Yes, the book is real. And phenomenal. And most of the secrets I "read" were real.  
Misstvjunkie- Oh! I forgot to say that in my A/N! Her school is based on mine!! (Did we go to the same school?) Mine actually has a tunnel that leads under the biggest street in town, from WWI for bombs and stuff. It's amazing.  
Nutmeg- I think Oh! is best! And thanks for the Qs, but no quintuplets for Jam.  
Anon- Princess Bride! YES! haha. love it. And thanks for your Queen cover band idea.  
Henantz- Me too! I hope I explained it well enough? That's all I can think of...

* * *

She turned her emergency key in the door, knocking lightly as she opened it. She'd spent two minutes smoothing over her jeans and t-shirt, debating whether or not she should be over at his house this early in the morning. But, hadn't he surprised her at the butt crack of dawn countless times, wanting her to drop everything and come with him on a random date? The least he could expect would be for her to do the same thing even if she did have no idea what her excuse was.

She opened the door quickly, hearing a familiar theme song playing in the background. _What song is that? I remember it, but what is it?_ She heard a scratchy voice and walked toward the sounds, glancing at the TV to see a blue man dressed in a red and yellow sweat suit. _Oh man!_ She giggled, and Jim's eyes shot up to her, and he grinned, embarrassed. "Nice pajamas," she said, noticing his Scooby Doo pajama pants and the small sliver of skin between the waist of them and his white shirt. _You can stretch out some more, if you want to… I don't mind… _"Saturday morning cartoons?"

He grinned, taking a bite of his cereal and milk dribbled down his chin. She sucked on her bottom lip to keep from laughing. "Oh, this is funny," he said, pointing as a kid with five hairs got a haircut. He laughed, and she sat down next to him on the couch, smiling at his childlike spirit. "Wasn't _Doug,_ like, the best cartoon ever?"

"I've only seen it one or two times," she said, and he quickly muted the television, turning to her, flabbergasted. She laughed, "When did it come out? I was too old. I think Amanda got into it at some point, but it was kind of later on… I think it was when Disney picked it up." He made a face of disgust. "What?" she asked.

"Disney ruined _Doug_," he replied. "Nickelodeon is so much better."

"It's not on Nickelodeon anymore, is it?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"I have the DVD set," he replied, and her eyes went wide as she giggled. "What? You don't?"

"No," she replied. "I don't. How many episodes do you own?"

"Umm…. All of them," he replied, and she smiled. "Go ahead and grab a bowl and some cereal if you want… I think there's about an hour left." She rolled her eyes, climbing over the back of his couch and heading into the kitchen. She thumbed through the cereal boxes. _Lucky Charms, Fruit Loops, Frosted Flakes_. She looked back at his Scooby pajamas and the cartoon DVD set he owned. _How old is he anyway? _She pulled the Cheerios off the back of the refrigerator, laughing to herself as she noticed it was completely full, unlike the sugary cereals that were down to the last morsels. She poured herself a bowl of cereal and grabbed a Darth Vader spoon, pushing aside all of the more normal ones, and walked into the living room, sitting down next to him and crossing her legs. He peered into her bowl, "the breakfast cereal of mothers and grandmothers, huh?"

"Shut up," she laughed, hitting him with her spoon. "At least I grabbed the spoon of three-year-olds."

He smiled, chewing cheerios, laughing out loud at the cartoon. After a few minutes she'd begun to enjoy the episodes, and after only a few, she and Jim were humming the theme song together. When the credits rolled and the DVD menu appeared on the screen, she sighed. "It's over?"

"Oh, so Senorita Beesly likes _Doug_ huh?" he asked, putting on a fake Spanish accent.

"She just likes his cartoons," Pam replied, smiling, enamored by the teenagish characteristics Jim had. She looked over at him, her eyes wide _Oh man…I can't even handle him in pajamas._ "Quailman is brilliant."

Jim nodded, laughing, "Quailman is brilliant," he said, in the voice he used when he was trying to make a show of how much he agreed with whatever ridiculous statement someone had made before him. "And, Doug's band name. The Beets. Fantastic."

"I'm partial to Porkchop," Jim said, smiling. "When I get married, I'm going to make my wife let me name our dog Porkchop."

"Oh are you?" she smiled, teasing. "Well, I'm going to go tomorrow and buy a dog and name him Porkchop. Because I'm single and independent, and I can buy a dog without having to ask anyone's permission. And if I wanted, I could name my dog Cat and nobody would care."

"So you're going to have two dogs," Jim said, tapping his spoon against his bowl. "Porkchop and Cat?"

"Sounds about right," she said, standing up and grabbing his spoon and bowl with hers and taking them into the kitchen, dropping them in the sink. She called from the kitchen, staring at the tufts of his brown hair that were sticking up above the couch, "so, am I a little bit early?"

He laughed. "Yeah, just a little bit. I was going to pick you up in an hour or so," he replied as she sat down next to him.

"Oh, well now I guess you'll just have to entertain me," she replied, shrugging. He laughed and she scooted closer to him, pulling his quilt over her legs. "I'm a little cold," she blushed.

"I could have gotten you a blanket or something," he said, chuckling. "You didn't have to wait until you were an icicle to tell me."

"It wasn't much," she smiled, "I'm just a bit chilly, that's all." He nodded, and she looked down at the quilt. "What is this?"

"It's a quilt," he replied.

"Thank you," she said softly, looking down at it and running her fingers over the baby blue fabric. He smiled, watching her as she ran her fingers over various pictures of him when he was younger—everything from diapers to skinned knees to high school snapshots to last year. "Did Grandma make this?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah, she did. It was my baby quilt," he said.

She picked the quilt up, "Jim, this is not a baby quilt," she laughed. "Unless you were a baby the size of a grown man. This could probably fit on my bed."

"Well, it was a baby quilt at the time, she keeps adding parts to it," he said, laughing. "And by the way, I came out of the womb like this."

"Tall and lanky and wearing Scooby pajamas?" she teased.

"I think I might have been wearing Spongebob," he replied.

She rolled her eyes, "I'm 99.9 percent positive Spongebob was not invented yet when you were born."

"Duh, Pam," he replied, rolling his eyes. "I would have brought him to life. I could have been famous!"

"As famous as famous can be?" she asked, smiling.

"With the whole wide world watching me win on TV," he replied, quoting Dr. Seuss.

"Okay," she laughed. "Tell me more about this blanket."

"His name is _Blankie_," Jim replied, "get it right, Pam."

"Tell me about Blankie," she smiled.

Jim thought for a moment, before pulling her closer to him and spreading the blanket out more evenly. "Grandma really likes to sew. I'm not sure if you knew that, but she does. And so when she found out baby Jimmy was going to be born, she started making this quilt."

"Baby Jimmy?" Pam smiled, and Jim gave her a look.

"Do you want to hear this story or not?" He asked, and she shut her mouth, smiling. He pointed at the center of the blanket, "This is my very first baby picture," he said, and she looked at it, smiling.

"You had a big head."

"Shut up," he laughed. She stared at the picture for a second, before giggling. "What?" he asked, and she shook her head, turning red in the face. "No, seriously, what?" he asked again, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

She pointed at naked Jim, "I sure hope you've grown a little bit," she laughed, and his jaw dropped.

"Pamela Beesly!" he said. "Watch your mouth!" she giggled and he smiled. "Anyway…" he trailed of. "Every year, I bring pictures to Grandma and she puts them on my blankie."

"Like that movie," Pam said, snapping her fingers, "Umm, _Stepmom_."

"Grandma did it first," Jim replied, smiling. He pointed at a few pictures of a baby only a few weeks old. "These were my first few pictures. I'm the baby, obviously." She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. "That's Janice," he pointed at a three-year-old girl making fishy faces at the baby, her hair back in pigtail braids as she held a Barbie doll close to her. "And these are my parents," he pointed to a young woman with hair the same color of his and hazel eyes and a young man with darker hair and dark eyes, but the same face as Jim. He was grinning lopsided at the camera, just as Jim had done countless times before.

"You look just like them," she said, running her finger over the side of the picture.

"That's probably a good thing," he said, laughing. She looked up at him, embarrassed. He told her about the other pictures, pointing out the wonderful clothing styles and hair styles his family had taken up over the years, telling the family dinnertime stories that were captured in pictures.

"Um, what's going on here?" she asked, pointing at a one year old Jim in a high chair, a tub of butter on his head.

"I put a tub of butter on my head one day. Janice was running around and mom and dad were chasing her, so I decided to be the funny guy. My hair was blonde when I was little, and Janice convinced me it was because I put butter on my head. She still calls me a butterhead."

"Butterhead!" Pam exclaimed, giggling. "Wow, that's… awesome." They laughed and he went on explaining pictures. She laughed when she saw a picture of seven year old Jim, smiling in the way little kids did with squinted eyes, trying to show all of their teeth, holding a fish and pointing at it with a look that said, _hell yeah, I caught a fish._

"You were so adorable," she said, smiling.

"Were?" he asked.

"Were," she replied, grinning. He smacked her arm playfully and she smiled. "Aww, Jim at prom. Who was your date? She was pretty," Pam said, looking at a young girl with light brown hair down past her shoulders, dressed in a soft orange dress. His arms were around her waist and she was smiling up at him like he was heaven, and he was matching her gaze. "You look like you really liked her," Pam smiled up at him, wondering if like was even the right word. _He looks more like he loves her_.

"That's Alyssa," he said, smiling. He pointed at a few other pictures with her in them—the two of them at the playground, the two of them eating fries in their pajamas, the two of them holding baseball bats, their baseball hats turned backwards making funny faces at the camera. "She was my best friend. She moved next door to me when we were seven. She was the coolest kid ever. She played Cops and Robbers with me and we destroyed everyone at kickball. She was the only girl on the basketball team. I think we seriously lived at each other's houses."

"And you took her to prom?" Pam asked, smiling at him.

"Yeah, I mean, why would I want to spend time with anyone else?" he asked, staring at Pam. "She was my best friend."

Pam broke his gaze and looked down at the picture. "It looks like she was more than just your best friend, Jim. You guys look like you were in love with each other."

"It wasn't mutual," he replied, sighing. She looked up at him, perplexed. "I told her a few days before she left for college that I was in love with her, and she just kind of stared at me for a moment and then she basically told me that I'd misinterpreted our friendship."

"Oh… Jim, I'm sorry," Pam said softly.

He shrugged. "Anyway, she went off to college, found her sweetheart, got married and they have three kids now. I see her every now and then when she and the family visit for Christmas. Her kids are really cute."

Pam nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. "I guess love can bite you in the ass sometimes, huh?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, it really can."

She looked up at him, "Jim, sometimes it turns out good. It doesn't always bite you in the ass you know."

"Says the woman who thinks all men are scum and love is a big fat joke," he replied, somewhat bitterly.

"I don't think that anymore," she said softly, looking up at him. "Jim, sometimes people just aren't meant to be. You've got to let it go and move on. Let yourself love other people."

He nodded, looking at her for a moment and she smiled softly. _She doesn't think that anymore? I changed her mind… Oh man._ "Well, here are some pictures of me and my friends from college," he said pointing at a picture of he and his roommate with a beer in their hands, laughing.

"Is that you and Stevie?" she smiled, pointing at a picture of a young adult Jim holding a small baby dressed in blue. "You look so scared," she chuckled.

"I didn't want to break him," he laughed softly. "I was so scared I'd drop him in the parking lot or something."

She smiled, "you're going to be a great daddy one day."

He smiled, and she looked on, for the first time noticing a picture of the two of them on his blanket. She remembered the day it was taken like it was yesterday, and for the first time, she studied her face. They'd gone rollerblading one Sunday afternoon when Roy was out of town, and she was struck by how happy she looked. Looking back, she knew she hadn't been happy at that time in her life in general, but something about seeing that smile on her face—a smile that reached from the corners of her lips to the sparkles in her eyes—made her wonder… Had she always felt this way about him? Had he always made her this happy? She certainly looked like he had.

"Jim?" she asked, looking at more than a few pictures of the two of them. "Why are there pictures of us on your Blankie?"

He looked down at her, "you're my best friend," he shrugged. She turned back to the quilt, and he blushed. _God, what's going on with us? We're so confusing._ _One minute she's kissing me and the next minute I'm just a Jim… and she's asking me why she's on my quilt… I wish she'd just come out and tell me what she's thinking._

She was looking at the quilt, but her mind was reeling. _He put me on his baby blanket? Me. Me!_ She looked back down at the picture, taking in Jim's face. She looked back up at the pictures of he and Alyssa, studying their gazes and expressions. _Oh my god…_

"How long ago was this picture taken?" she asked quickly, pointing at the picture of the two of them rollerblading.

"A year ago maybe? Maybe two?" he said, his forehead wrinkling. "There are more recent ones in here," he said, pointing farther down the blanket at pictures she knew had been taken since they started their dating challenge.

She studied his face. The smile, the look… the eyes… _Oh my god. He's… No, it's just a coincidence._ She looked closer at his face, clenching her teeth so her jaw wouldn't drop. _Oh my god, he's in love with me_. She looked up at him and smiled softly. "This is a cool quilt," she said softly, standing up and walking into the kitchen to get a drink of water.

"Thanks," he said, standing up and following her. "I'm going to go get dressed. Make yourself at home," she smiled and nodded as he grabbed his phone off the counter and carried it into his bedroom. _He's in love with me…. I.. I can't think about this right now. _She sighed and walked back into the living room, grabbing the remote and turning on more _Doug_.

* * *

They stood in the Dunder-Mifflin parking lot. Pam's arms were crossed against her chest, and he was standing with his hands in his pocket. He was whistling, and she was watching the wind, her mind reeling. _Why hasn't he told me?_ She watched the wind for a moment, aware that she was staring at nothing, but it felt cool against her cheek. _Why hasn't he told you? Are you seriously asking yourself that question, Pam? The guy got his heart broken by his best friend in high school when he told her. Why would he risk that again with you? Besides, like you would have said, "yeah, okay Jim, I'm in love with you" when you were still engaged to that assface._

"What are we doing here?" she asked, turning to him in an effort to break off her thoughts.

Jim shook his head at her, and she grunted. He laughed, "we're waiting for the other members of our party."

"Our party?" she asked, skeptical. "Who else is in our party?" At that moment, two cars pulled into the parking lot, one honking with a woman yelling out the window, and the other prim and proper with a "baby on board" sign in the window. "Wait, is that...?" she looked over at Jim, and he smiled at her. She squealed, running over to the cars.

She hadn't even reached the first one when the door to a bright red Jeep opened and out-stepped her seven-year-old niece, Hillary. "Aunt Pam!" she squealed, running toward her and jumping in her arms. Pam smiled and picked her up.

"Oh geez, you're heavy Hil," she said, laughing. She hugged her tight. "I've missed you!" She smiled, kissing Hillary's cheek. Hillary smiled. "Hey, you're missing a new tooth."

"Yep!" Hillary grinned. "I lost it last week. You wanna know a secret?" she whispered, and Pam nodded, smiling, walking toward the car. Hillary whispered, "I put the tooth under my pillow, and I got a whole dollar, but the tooth fairy forgot to take my tooth, so I put it under there again, and she gave me a whole 'nother dollar! She forgot she'd already gave me money." Pam smiled. Hillary's eyes were shining brightly, and Pam couldn't help but remember how great the tooth fairy had seemed when she was younger.

Diana entered from the other side of the car, carrying a small child, about two in her arms. "Hi sis," she said, giving Pam a huge hug.

Pam grinned, hugging her back, and patted the child's head. "Hi miss Eva," she said, letting Hillary down and taking Eva out of Diana's arms. "You've gotten so big!"

Diana laughed. "I swear, she grows a few inches every day. I'm already buying her clothes for three-year-olds and she's barely two."

Pam laughed as Eva open fisted her in the face. She giggled, and Pam kissed her nose lightly. Eva pointed at Jim, and Pam followed her point, smiling. He winked at them, and Eva started giggling again. Pam laughed, tickling her belly and whispered in her ear, "Yeah, he's quite the charmer, isn't he baby girl?"

Pam felt someone tap her shoulder, and she turned around to see her baby sister, Amanda, grinning. "Amanda!" she squealed, throwing her arms around her. "It's so good to see you!"

"You too," she replied, smiling. Her eyes were shining, "So, who is this Jim character?" she asked, grinning.

Pam laughed, "It's a long story, Mandy."

"Eww, don't call me that," Amanda laughed. "Is it a good story?"

Pam gave her a look, smiling. "Yes, but we'll talk later… You should call your older sister more often, she misses you."

"I call Diana plenty often," Amanda teased, and Pam rolled her eyes, laughing. "Okay, so what are we doing? Your boyfriend-lover-whatever-he-is called and said it was very important we be here."

"He did?" she asked, her eyebrow arched. "Honestly, he's probably a liar." Amanda laughed.

"Well, at least he's a cute liar."

Eva giggled, and Pam smiled. "Amen to that." They walked over to where Hillary and Jim were standing, and for the first time, Pam noticed Jim's sister standing there as well.

"Oh, Janice!" she said, smiling as she walked over. "Hi!" Janice gave her a quick hug, and they stood next to each other. Everyone was looking at Jim, and he smiled.

"Ladies, hello."

"Hello," they all said in unison, and Janice leaned over and whispered in Pam's ear, "he thinks he's such a ladies man." She giggled in response, and Eva laid her head down against Pam's shoulder. She caught Jim staring at her, and she smiled, urging him on. "I asked all of you here for a very important reason," he said, and all of the girls looked at him expectantly. "Something has gone missing," he said, and everyone looked around the circle.

"What is it?" Amanda asked.

"I can't tell you," he replied, "but it's very important to Pam." Pam arched her eyebrows at him, and he nodded, a solemn look on his face. Everyone turned to look at her, and Eva reached her hand up and patted Pam's head softly. "We need to find it, as a group."

"Okay," Diana said slowly, "how do we do that?"

"In order to find Pam's missing treasure, we have to decipher clues left at various locations. In order to get the clues, we have to perform an act. I have our first clue in my hand."

"I'm confused," Hillary said, looking at Jim.

"What we're going to do," Jim said, crouching down to Hillary's level, "is we're going to figure out what this clue means, drive to that place, do whatever is necessary to get the next clue, and keep on doing that until we finally find your Aunt Pam's missing treasure."

Hillary nodded, looking up at Pam. "We'll help you find it, Aunt Pam," she said, a serious look on her face.

Pam smiled, "thank you, Hillary."

"What's the first clue, Jim?" Janice asked, giving him a skeptical look. He glared at her, as if to say, _don't mess with me, sister._

"Our first clue is thus," he said, waving his hand and speaking in rhyme, "_Where Colonel Sanders built his empire, southern cooking never expires."_

The girls looked at him skeptically, before Hillary spoke up. "That's a really bad rhyme. Even Johnny in my class can write a better rhyme than that."

Jim gave her a look and she smiled, before Diana spoke up, "Okay, off to KFC we go everyone. Hop in," she said, and Jim took the front seat as all of the girls piled in the back of the car. Eva was quacking like a duck in her car seat, and Pam didn't have the heart to tell her that it wasn't chickens that quacked. Diana drove slowly toward the KFC, Jim's frequent interruptions causing her to drive even slower as she wasn't sure where she was going. She didn't live in Scranton, and she never had. How was she to know where the nearest KFC was?

When they pulled into the driveway, Jim turned around to the car full of women and pulled out his video camera, handing it to Pam, "film this, would you?"

She nodded, "I have experience." Amanda snorted in the back, and Pam gave her the evil eye, informing her of all of the Great Scott videos she'd filmed over the years. She pointed the camera at Jim and pressed record right before he winked at her, and then she smiled and pointed her finger at him, signaling him to go.

"Now that we've arrived at Colonel Sanders finest establishment," he began, and all of the women looked at him funny. Eva was clapping from her car seat. "Your mission, to get the next clue, is to walk around the entire restaurant doing the chicken dance."

"What's the chicken dance?" Hillary asked, and Pam pointed the camera at her, then back at Jim. Jim smiled.

"For those who don't know," he said matter-of-factly, as if any one of the women may not know, "the chicken dance is a dance based to the song that goes _I don't wanna be a chicken; I don't wanna be a duck; so shake my butt, hey hey hey hey_." Hillary nodded, recognizing the song, and Jim took the camera from Pam, raising his eyebrows. Hillary was already getting out of the car, and all of the other women were looking around at each other, pained expressions on their faces.

"Come onnnn," Hillary said, unbuckling Eva. Eva climbed out of her car seat, holding on to her older sister's hand.

"Mama, on!" she said, following Hillary out the door. They stood outside the door, hands on their hips, until finally Amanda, exasperated, threw her hands in the air. "Oh, what's the worst that can happen?" she said, and Pam laughed, following her out of the car until only Janice and Diana were left. Janice shrugged, climbing out, and Diana looked down at them hesitantly.

"This is so inappropriate," she said, sighing as she climbed out of the car and picked up Eva. Hillary marched into the door, pulling Amanda behind her as Jim took up the caboose, watching them all.

"Go on now," he said, and they all smiled real big, until Jim started singing softly. _I don't wanna be a chicken…_ He sang out the first part and the girls started walking around the KFC, their faces red with laughter as they quacked and shook their butts in peoples faces. He watched Eva with the camera, laughing as she would stick her butt out with her sister and aunts. She walked up to Jim and pulled on his shirt, and he leaned down, looking at her through the camera lens.

"We be biwds next time?" she asked, and Jim looked at her in confusion as he tried to decipher what she said. A moment later, he got it.

He smiled and picked her up, "absolutely!" he said, videotaping as the rest of the girls huddled up next to them. The manager was giving them stern looks, and Jim led them outside and into the car, laughing the entire time. They were all giggling, their faces red. Hillary was telling everyone about the chicken finger she almost stepped on and the old guy with the mashed potatoes and gravy that was clapping for them. Everyone got situated before Jim turned to them, handing the camera to Pam.

"Good job ladies, you've completed task one exceptionally well. I found the next clue," he said, and Pam rolled her eyes.

"What it?" Eva asked, and everyone looked at her and smiled, slight _aww_s escaping them.

He pulled out the card and read slowly in rhyme, "_Perhaps you should pack some sunscreen for Beach Day, or leave lilies in your hair as you soak up the sun's rays."_

Pam smiled, reaching up and feeling the side of her head instinctively. "Lake Scranton," she said, smiling at Jim. He smiled back, and Amanda raised her eyebrows as Diana drove there. While in the car, Jim gave them their next mission.

"Your next mission," he said, raising his eyebrows at Hillary, "is to have one person in your group be 'the dog'. The dog must be walked around the lake, on a 'leash' by the other members of the group. The dog must also, at some time, use the bathroom."

Hillary pointed at Eva, "Eva can be the dog."

"Woof!" Eva said, grinning.

Pam laughed, "no, Hillary, you can't volunteer your baby sister to be the dog." She looked throughout the car, then pointed to Amanda, "Amanda's the dog."

"Hey!" Amanda said, "you can't volunteer your baby sister to be the dog."

"Executive decision," Janice said, lifting a finger and everyone looked at her. "Pam is the dog."

"What?!" Pam squealed, laughing. "I can't be the dog. I'm not very dog like."

"Yeah, whatever sis," Diana said, laughing. Jim parked the car, pointing the camera at his face and doing a short monologue on Pam being the dog. Pam sighed, getting out of the car and walking over to the tree, getting down on all fours. Jim made a lopsided grin and shrug at the camera before turning it back to the girls as they took Pam on a walk. He videotaped them, grinning as he saw all the other people around them laughing at her. This was priceless. He would have to make sure to hide the tape; this was the kind of thing she would kill to find.

After she'd found a human fire hydrant (her younger sister Amanda) and they'd taken a lap around the lake, she stood up and sauntered over to the car, laughing, leaves and grass in her hair, the patterns of the ground on her palms. He smiled and opened the door for her and the others, reading out the next clue.

"_They sell clocks and kites and jeans, but this store is Walmart by no means."_

Pam bit her lip, and he could see her mind wandering. The girls speculated in the backseat, throwing out ideas like Goodwill or Target or Albertsons. It was only when Hillary mentioned K-mart that Jim spoke up, affirming her idea, and Diana drove to their next destination.

Jim was having fun videotaping them goofing around in the car when Pam turned to Amanda. "Hey Amanda, you wan to play the Questions game?"

"Do I ever?" she countered. Pam grinned.

"I don't know, do you?"

"What makes you think I wouldn't?" Amanda asked.

Pam turned to Hillary. "Do you want to play, Hil?"

"What?" Hillary asked, and Jim laughed. Pam turned to Jim.

"What about you?"

"What do you think?" he asked. Diana rolled her eyes.

"Do you think Dwight is s-e-x-y?" she spelled, and he choked on his air.

"Do you?" he countered.

"As sexy as Phyllis?"

Jim stared at her wide-eyed, when Hillary spoke up, "What's sexy mean?"

Diana looked in the rear-view mirror angrily, "Why'd you have to teach her that word?"

Hilary looked confused, "What does it mean?"

Amanda leaned forward, "Diana, do you know where you're going?"

She looked over her shoulder, "Why don't you just shush and let me drive?"

Jim leaned over to Pam and whispered, "Feisty, isn't she?"

"What would you expect from my sister?" Pam asked, grinning as Diana parked the car at K-Mart.

"What now?" Amanda said, and Jim smiled.

"You want your challenge?" he asked, and they nodded. "Can we put a hold on the Questions game?"

"Until we finish this challenge?" Pam asked, inflecting the second part of the sentence.

"When else?" Jim asked, and Pam rolled her eyes, nodding. Jim smiled, "Okay then, The Questions Game is thence on hold."

Hillary sighed. "I still don't get it."

Jim laughed. "Your mission in K-mart," he started and everyone rolled their eyes, watching him. "Oh, here, take the camera," he said, handing it to Pam. He put on his fake voice again, "Your mission, should you choose to accept it," he said, grinning, "is to play Twister in the middle of K-mart. If you can find someone to play with you, you get extra points."

"What do points get you?" Pam asked, and he put his finger to his lips. She sighed, opening the door as they all filed out. She let her sisters walk in front of her, but she hung back next to him, looking up at him. "Can I tell you something?" she asked, shutting off the camera.

"Sure," he replied, looking over at her. She smiled up at him, her eyes clouded by something. "Tell me anything," he said.

She smiled, "As much as I love my family…" she trailed off, watching Amanda and Janice holding Eva and swinging her forward. "and your sister, of course," she laughed as Hillary climbed on Janice's back. "I kind of miss it being just us."

He smiled, "I hear ya." She grinned as they walked through the doors and toward the game aisle, Hillary skipping the whole way. When they got to the game aisle, Diana was already pulling down Twister, opening it up and laying it out in the middle of the floor. Pam giggled.

"Alright everybody, stand somewhere on the mat," she handed Jim the spinner. He flicked it.

"Right foot blue," he said, and they all managed to do so. "Left foot green." He waited. "Right hand yellow." Diana fell to the ground. Hillary saw a young woman walking by.

"Ma'am," she called out, and the woman turned around. Hillary smiled and spoke nervously. "You wanna play Twister with us?" The woman looked perplexed at the girl, a slight smile on her face.

"Uh…" she stuttered.

"Peas?" Eva said, smiling at the woman. The woman laughed, setting down her purse and smiling at the little girl.

"Okay, for you I will," she smiled, patting the top of Eva's head. Eva grinned, resuming her position next to Jim and her mom. Jim flicked the spinner again, laughing as he called out "Left hand blue." He watched as Pam turned into a pretzel, her butt sticking out in the air. Amanda was sprawled out underneath her; Janice was the most put-together of the four of them, and Hillary had to be the most limber child he'd ever seen. The new woman introduced herself as Ashlyn and stepped into the game, managing to get into position right as he called out "Left foot yellow."

Pam gave him the evil eye before moving her foot to the yellow, slipping on the slippery game board, crashing to the ground, taking Amanda with her. Amanda pouted and Pam stood up, rubbing her butt. "Ow, that hurt," she said and he laughed at her, spinning again. It was only Ashlyn and Hillary, but only a few spins into it Ashlyn had hit the ground, claiming Hillary as the champ. She pumped her arms into the air and did a little dance for the camera, before they said goodbye to Ashlyn, put the game back together, rested it on the shelf and hurried out the door before anyone caught them playing with merchandise without paying.

They were walking through the store when Hillary's voice popped up, "where to now?"

Jim smiled, his announcer voice caught on camera by Pam once again, "_Where permits you must hold for your radishes to be sold."_ Pam turned the camera on herself and smiled.

"Dwight's beet farm," she stated.

Diana sighed. "Why am I even driving? I have no idea where any of these places are." She got out of the drivers seat, pushing Jim into the seat. He laughed, driving down the familiar streets to Dwight's beet farm, the rocky dirt roads causing the whole car to bounce and Eva to spill the cheerios her aunt Amanda had given her. They'd only just started the Questions game again when Jim pulled up next to Dwight's driveway. Pam stared at him.

"Jim, we can't steal anything with my nieces in the car," she stated. Diana looked at her, a look of shock on her face.

"Pam? You've stolen something?" she barked, covering Hillary and Eva's ears.

"Uh, newsflash," Amanda said, "they can still hear you."

Jim spoke up, "I have no idea what Pam was referring to. She tends to talk crazy talk every now and then. Are you ready for your challenge?" They all nodded enthusiastically—well, all except Pam. Jim grinned. She went white.

"There are wigs and costumes in the back," he said, and Pam's face dropped. "I have a CD player. You must play one song as a Queen tribute band, dressed as each of the performers."

"Which Queen?" Hillary asked. "Elizabeth?"

Amanda chuckled, "no, sweetie, they were a band."

"Oh," Hillary said. "They must not have been any good; I never heard of them."

Pam grinned, "Hillary, they're the best band ever."

"Pam!" Jim glared at her, "Scrantonicity is easily the best band ever. Don't feed her false information." Pam giggled, reaching over her seat and pulling out the boxes of costumes and hair pieces. The three sisters and Janice got dressed up, giggling the entire time. Jim rolled his eyes and chatted with Eva and Hillary as they got set up. When the girls had transformed into the famous rock group, he pulled the CD player out of the back of the van, loaded batteries inside, and started the music. The girls climbed out of the car, taking their positions and various types of microphones (a Barbie, a Sprite bottle, a hairbrush, and a child's microphone) and started belting out the lyrics to _Crazy Little Thing Called Love_.

They'd only gotten through the third verse, strutting around and laughing and singing into the microphone, when Dwight came hollering out of the house, stomping. Jim's eyes went wide as he turned off the CD player, yelling at the women. "Come on girls, it's time to go!" he yelled, and Pam turned around, saw Dwight, and sprinted back to the car, jumping inside. After they'd all gotten inside the car (quite dangerously), Jim took off down the road, the camera still going and none of the band members in their seatbelts. He stopped at the end of the road, his face red with laughter. He turned to them, and smiled. Pam was grinning from ear to ear, her hand over her chest. _Oh God, that was perfect… And she's a really good looking Freddie Mercury_.

Jim pulled another card out of his pocket. "This one has your challenge within the clue," he stated, and all of the girls stopped talking to listen. "_While little leaguers may come here to catch pop flies, your challenge is no easy feat. For in order to get your beloved prize, you must beat these famous athletes with your feet_."

"Jim, you can't rhyme feet with feat," Pam said, laughing. "Take us to the park where we played kickball, please." Jim smiled, driving to the park where he'd set up the various cutouts of famous athletes. The drive wasn't long—Dwight lived surprisingly close to the old beat up field. When they pulled up, Pam's giggles were infectious. She was staring out the window, her face covered by her hands, jumping in her seat lightly. Eva was pointing out the window at all of the pretty butterflies, and Janice was sitting quietly, tying her tennis shoes.

They all piled out of the van, and Jim smiled. "As you can see, we have a whole team of players. We have the beautiful Yoko Ono, the wonderful figure skating legend Kristi Yamaguchi," he waved toward them, and Pam rolled her eyes. "Former President Jimmy Carter, Famous daredevil Evil Knieval, The Little Mermaid, Ariel, and of course, The Godfather of Soul, James Brown."

Hillary was looking at the people skeptically. "Who are those people?" she asked her mom, but Diana just shook her head slightly. Trying to explain who all of those people were would be too much of a hassle.

"Your job," Jim smiled, "Is to be the first team to get to five in cutout kickball. When the fifth person crosses the plate, Pam's beloved treasure will be released." Pam smiled at him, rolling her eyes. _I'm positive nothing of mine is missing… Aren't I? Wait, where's my dundie? Oh yeah, the trash._

They defeated the cutout team three up three down, and even though Diana struck out once, it didn't take them long to score the first four runs. However, after Janice, Hillary, Pam and Amanda had all scored, the only person left to bat was Eva. Jim insisted that she bat, but the young child could barely walk, let alone run and kick a ball and then run around the bases. Jim grinned. "Hillary, take over for me at pitcher," he said, tossing the young girl the ball.

Her face lit up, and she walked over to Eva, placing his hands between her arms and picking her up lightly. Hillary pitched the ball, and he ran with Eva towards it, dipping her low enough that her feet hit the ball back into the field. He grinned, ran towards first base and dipped Eva down so her foot touched it, then continued in the same pattern until he was halfway between third and home. He set her down, grinning, "run Eva, run!" he cheered.

The other girls all cheered Eva on as the ball stopped rolling out in the field. None of the athletes made any effort to get it, as Eva toddled over to home plate. She stopped right in front of it, giggling lightly. She looked up at all of the women, as if to ask _what sense does this made?_ Pam laughed and grabbed her hand, "c'mon Eva, let's go," she said, walking the final step with the young girl. All the women cheered and Jim laughed, clapping for Eva.

Pam turned to him, "so where's my treasured possession?" Jim laughed, headed over to the car, and came back with a cage. Inside the cage was a fairly large Iguana. There was a piece of laminated paper on the cage wall, identifying her as Imogene. Pam laughed, "oh my god!"

"I found her," Jim winked, and Pam smiled, hugging him tight. "I called Deputy Schrute and told him that we found Imogene. He wanted to congratulate you."

She laughed. Hillary ran over, "Aunt Pam, what is that?"

"It's my pet iguana, Imogene," Pam said smiling. As the girls began to look at Imogene, Pam smiled over at Jim. He winked at her, turned off the video camera, and loaded up the car.

* * *

Jim pressed play on the DVD player, handing Hillary his quilt and smiling at her. "What do you want in your quesadilla?" he asked. 

"Cheese," she replied simply enough, and he laughed. Eva toddled over to them and sat down in Hillary's lap before she spread it out over them. "What's this show called again?"

"_Doug,_" Jim replied, "and it's the best show ever." Hillary giggled and he left them in the living room as he wandered into the kitchen, pulling out a frying pan and some other ingredients for quesadillas. Pam was standing in the kitchen when he entered, smiling at him as she got three glasses out of the cupboard.

"You're adorable with them," she said softly, filling the glasses with water. "I can tell the girls really love you."

"I have a way about me," Jim replied, and Pam laughed.

"I'm sorry Janice had to go home. I had a lot of fun with her tonight," Pam said, and Jim nodded. "Amanda and Diana really liked her."

"Yeah, well. She's got kiddos to attend to, you know," Jim said, opening the fridge and handing her three cokes. "Besides, this will give you some time with your sisters."

She smiled at him and didn't say anything until he stood up and turned his body to look at her. "Thank you," she said softly, but genuinely, and he smiled. "It's been really great seeing them. I've missed them."

He nodded, "well, I know you haven't gotten a chance to see them much lately. Your weekends have been rather occupied."

She laughed. "Well, I appreciate you putting yourself in the middle of the Beesly firing squad." He laughed, and she continued, pouring the coke in the glasses. "Diana and her girls are going back tonight, but Amanda's going to stay at my place. She'll leave after lunch tomorrow."

Jim smiled, "I'm glad you're going to get some more time with her," he replied.

"But after she leaves, do you think maybe we could grab coffee or take a walk or something? I'll need some Jim time, you know?"

He laughed, "don't you want time to set up house with Imogene?"

She laughed. "I can't believe you bought me an iguana. You're such a loser."

"You're the loser," he retorted, sticking his tongue out. _Good one, Jim._

_Good one, Jim._ She laughed, "well, after I set up Imogene and give my introverted self some rest, maybe…" He nodded, and she smiled. "What are you making for dinner? We Beesly girls can pack away a lot of food."

"I was thinking quesadillas," he said, and she laughed.

"Naturally."

He grinned. "It does start with q." He paused. "Now, when you say pack away, are we talking four, five? How many?"

She grinned. "8 at the _minimum_. And we want them loaded. Anything that can turn into cellulite, throw it in there, honey."

He laughed, and then pointed his finger at her, "Oh, yeah, Beesly, that reminds me."

"What?" she smiled.

"Were you that girl in college that used her dad's emergency credit card to buy ice cream and concert tickets?" She smiled and blushed.

"No..." she trailed off.

"Hmm, so you do understand the meaning of the word _emergency_, then?" he asked, and she blushed.

"Jim! You could have fallen in the toilet or been murdered or something!" she protested, thinking back to earlier that morning when she'd busted into his house.

"Yeah, right... You just wanted to get back at me for all of those times I saw you in your pajamas," he pouted. She smiled.

"Exactly," she said, walking the opposite way.

He laughed as she carried the cokes into his bedroom. He could hear the girl squeals all the way out in the kitchen, even after she'd shut the door and they'd turned on their inside voices.

* * *

Amanda sat on Jim's bed, her legs crossed Indian style, her head back against the headboard. She was looking all over the room. He had picked up, she could tell. His laundry basket was nowhere near empty, but his floor was barren. The tops of his dressers had random stacks of papers or books or whatever it was, and his nightstand had only a watch and two picture frames. One of he and who she assumed was his mom, and one of he and the girl she'd recognize anywhere—her sister. 

She leaned over to Diana and whispered, "Hey sis, what would you say it means if a guy has a picture of you in his bedroom?"

Diana laughed, "he's in love with you." Amanda reached over and picked up the picture of Jim and Pam, showing it to her sister. Diana laughed, "yeah, didn't we all see that one coming?"

Pam came in the door just in time to hear Diana's comment, and she smiled, "See what coming?" she asked, handing Diana her coke and Amanda hers, and moving her own into her right hand. "What are we talking about?" she asked, kicking the door shut with her foot. Diana shook her head lightly, as Amanda handed Pam the photo.

"When was this taken?" she asked.

Pam smiled at the picture, the memory flooding back to her. "Jim had a barbeque last year. We were sitting talking and Phyllis or Oscar or somebody snapped a picture of us."

"Why is the picture in his room?" Amanda asked, skeptically.

Pam shrugged. "We're friends."

"Friends?" Diana asked, and Pam gave her a look. "You know, Tom and I were friends one day. Then nine months later out popped Hillary."

"Well, we're the kind of friends that don't have sex," Pam replied, "and even if we did, we'd use some protection" she sing-songed.

"We planned for Hillary—she wasn't a surprise, we would have gotten married anyway," Diana replied, nodding. Pam and Amanda laughed. "Besides, don't you tell me you don't wanna have sex with that," Diana said, nodding toward the appointment.

Amanda grinned, "yeah, Pam, he's really hot."

"Totally," Diana agreed, gushing. Pam could feel her face turn red.

"He's just Jim," Pam said, shrugging, trying to diver their attention from Jim. "I mean, he's tall and lanky… I mean, he's not bad, but he's not a dish."

"Oh, he's totally a dish," Diana said, grinning.

Amanda jumped in, "yeah, he's the type of guy you pull into the bathroom at a party and rip off his--"

"Okay, enough!" Pam said, exasperated. "I agree, he's _gorgeous_, okay…"

Diana grinned, and Amanda squealed, "spill!"

"There's nothing to spill, alright?" Pam said, hugging her body uncomfortably. "We're just friends hanging out…"

"Yeah, right, spill," Diana said. Pam sighed.

"Di, it's nothing. We're just hanging out… We're good friends."

"Yeah, right, spill," Amanda said. Pam sighed again.

"What? We've been hanging out on Saturdays because of this stupid bet, that's all."

"What stupid bet?" Amanda asked, and Pam's face lit up.

"Mom didn't tell you?" Her sisters shook their heads no. "When I caught Roy I came to Jim for comfort. I guess I was telling him about how I would turn lesbian before I trusted a man again," Amanda snorted, and Diana rolled her eyes. " ..So, he made me promise to go on 'dates' with him for the next 26 Saturdays."

"Pam!" Amanda squealed.

"I know!" she giggled, letting down her guard. "He's…"

"Perfect?" Diana gushed, and Pam rolled her eyes, laughing. "He so obviously loves you, Pam. What are you doing?"

"You think he loves me?" Pam asked, reverting back to her doubts. "I think he's just being cute… like normal."

"Paaaaaam," Amanda groaned. "He's so totally into you. He looks at you like you're the motherfucking princess or something."

"I am, thanks," Pam replied, grinning.

"Shut up," Amanda said, throwing a pillow at her face. Pam laughed. "So, have you kissed him?" Pam's smile extended high on her face and Diana and Amanda squealed. "You did!"

"Kind of," Pam said, shaking her head lightly. "I mean, I was sick… and he kissed me."

"Gross," Diana said. "You had germs."

"He said he didn't care," Pam smiled.

"Aww," the girls gushed, and Pam laughed. "So, when are you guys getting married and having babies and everything?" Amanda asked.

Pam laughed. "I'm not interested in any of that anytime soon, thanks."

Diana studied her, "why not?"

Pam shrugged, hugging herself some more. "I just like being independent sometimes, you know?"

"Because of Roy?" Amanda asked, and Pam wondered when Amanda had gotten so in tune with the contemplative side of herself. "Since you've been dependent for all your life?"

"Yeah," Pam said, smiling. "I mean, it's nice to be able to make mac and cheese at midnight and have nobody up your ass about why."

Diana and Amanda laughed, and Diana smiled, "well, there's no saying you can't enjoy a little independence. Just know when to let it up."

Pam smiled, nodding, when she heard the knock on the door and Jim's voice. "Quesadillas are ready!" She grinned, and the three of them jumped out of bed, racing to the door. Diana threw it open and Jim was standing there.

"MOVE!" Pam yelled, as the three of them pushed him to the side and raced to the kitchen table, spotting two plates filled with quesadillas.

"You're going to need to make more, stud muffin," Amanda called, and Jim blushed. Pam kicked her.

"Bitch," she said, and sat down at the table, grabbing a quesadilla and smiling at her sisters.

* * *

Review! R will be a big chapter! 


	19. R is for Romance

Well, first things first... I'm sorry this has taken me so long to get up. It's been an absolutely HECTIC past twelve days. My M-Ws are booked from 7 AM to at LEAST 11 PM every week, and on top of that I've had my best friend fly into town from Spain, my neice was born, and I had three tests this week to study for. I seriously had NO time to write this (and I'm not exaggerating). Plus, I'm used to writing my chapter's to completion in one sitting, and this one wasn't gonna be that way. So, there's my excuse. But, be rest assured I will NEVER forget about this story--I want to see what happens as much as you do!

So, your reviews:  
Brwneyedgirl- Eva most likely won't be making another appearance... Sorry! And I'm glad you didn't see the iguana coming; neither did I until I wrote that part! haha. Originally, they were questing for air.  
Alison- Thanks! That was what I was most worried about. I hate it when there are secondary characters just for the sake of secondary characters! I'm glad you enjoyed them.  
Kerber- Doug is awesome. And Dwight would love his band name. And I need mo' allowance.  
Henantz- Aww, thanks! And R is a big chapter... At least in my eyes.  
CoffeeObsessed- All I can say is, LOL!  
Anon- Yep, that's why I included Miss Alyssa in there. I've always thought Jim was a little TOO hesitant to step out of his shell, but hey, we'll see.  
Dancer- I love Eva, period. She's a little girl I babysit for.  
Michelle- Yeah, I get what you're saying. I'm not sure if they were staying the night or not (I can't remember, I don't think so...) And they were in Jim's room because the kids were watching TV in the living room.  
PenguinPatrol- Oh, thanks!!!  
KatieBeth- Wow! Thanks!! I really love new readers/reviewers--I really love to hear from you guys! I hope your brother didn't burn the house down (hah, I was babysitting when I got your review!) Please feel free to leave any constructive criticism you wish--I thrive on it!  
SmallTuna- You will see Grandma soon, I promise. And of course they eat. Haha. I eat in front of boys, no problem. they eat in front of me, so, why wouldn't I? Hah. And the Brian thing turned out good.  
Ashley- Hmm, I see what you mean. (And for the record, I hate using the f word)... But I do think that a lot of the time, when I use it in the story, it's an appropriate reaction by the characters. I don't think Jim or Pam are potty mouths, but I do think they use the word (Jim more than Pam). And I DEFINITELY think Pam thinks in it. But, I'll be more careful about when I do use it, though I think I use it sparingly enough, and in the right context. And this story isn't meant to be a completely sweet JAM story--it's meant to have it's drama and angst.  
Benjamin- I'm glad you said that about her sisters. That was my intention... To make it so that basically, she was the left out one because her sisters were so alike, and yet, I wanted them to have a good relationship. Glad you liked it!  
DPP- thanks so much!!!  
Squint- Yeah, Pam figured out a lot this time, and I love that she initiated the date. Haha. She's so fun. And the chicken dance in KFC I've done, the other one was someone else's story.  
Nat- It hurts bad, we'll just leave it there. And Imogene is awesome. I want to know what happened when she reported him found to Dwight, hahaha.  
Hanakinstarbucks- Thanks so much! I love reviewers!!! And there will at least be more Halperts, not sure about Beeslys. We'll see. :)  
Alaska- Did I? I'm so sorry!!!! I looked back, and I still don't see it there... Am I blind? Aww, how cute of a story! And congratulations on the engagement! That's great!  
KT- I'm glad you like it! I'm not sure if Pam actually has sisters, but she does in this story, haha.  
Luriah- Here!  
Kaitlyn- Thanks so much! And I know exactly what you mean about the first few chapters--it's a common theme in my writing, I think... The beginning is hard because I don't know where I'm going with anything and I don't know what I'm doing, but I get into full swing later on. So, I'm glad you gave me a second chance too!  
Kitty- Well don't all sisters start to sound like Kelly when given the right circumstances? I know I do, haha. And R is for none of those!  
Kristine- Point taken, and here, delivered.  
Kathryn- Yeah, I looked at Geneva very briefly. I'm at Florida State. :) And yeah, Jim's nice, but he's not perfect! We'll see more of his imperfections pretty soon.  
Lovemesomejam/countrycutie/ashley- First off, thanks! And I figured you weren't the same one! And I'm going to go look up your video real quick. Like now. I love it.  
Maddi- He got it at Kinkos... And I nanny/babysit for a living, so I know little kids well, which is probably why. I just pick a kid and make them one of the neices or nephews. Is that cheating? haha. And the relationship is moving, it's just not official... If you read between the lines, you can pick up on it. I just want it to be realistic and true to their characters.  
Ruli- You're great! I love sisterly interaction, too. I want a sister. I will never get one though :( Sad day for me. And R is for... Well, I'm not sure yet. Hah.  
Christine- I love you... Just remember that when you read this chapter, haha.  
Eagle- Wow, thanks! I really appreciate that!  
Leah- I'm quacking up at your review!!!  
Alyssa- Yeah, I miss those too. We're getting back to them now. And NICE about the electrocution... kind of...  
Weasly- WOW! Thanks! You're an awesome reviewer! Sorry I couldn't get this up to make your weekend last weekend, but maybe it can make this one? And honestly, so glad to hear you found it without even looking for more of my stories (I have quite a few up, and quite a bit more planned! So check it out if you're bored!) You're fantastic!  
SavesTheDay- Thanks! I'm not a huge fan of fanfics either, but I think when they're done right, they aren't bad... The problem lies in staying in character, I think. I'm glad you've enjoyed this one!  
Mrs.BigTuna- Thanks! I can't wait for them to get together either!!  
Amanda- At this point in the timeline, there is no Scrantonicity 2! Kevin hasn't broken up with his band yet! And thanks for the recommendations--they might, actually!  
Dean- Yeah, I agree it was strange at times.. but it was Q. haha. Q is for quirky. And here's your update.

For those of you who read Katy and I's story... Sorry it's taking so long. We haven't forgotten about you, we've just been SUPER busy. :) Forgive?

* * *

"Beesly," Jim's voice came across the other line the moment she picked up, not even giving her time to quip the clever opening she'd thought of just when the phone rang. Pam's Bordello would have to wait until next time. She smiled, breathing into the phone. He took it as his okay to continue, "We need to get to Dunder Mifflin. Dwight's out of town, and I know for a fact Michael's not coming in today."

"What are you talking about?" Pam asked, sighing. She rubbed her eyes and looked over at the clock, chuckling inside but outwardly groaning. 7:27. She should have known.

"No time for questions, Bees. Get downstairs, now."

"I'm wearing my pajamas," she groaned into the phone, peering out the window. She heard him open his door over the phone and watched as he appeared next to his car in his cartoon pajamas _What happened to Scooby? Did he buy another pair in a different color? _She squinted out the window, when she saw him point at her, and then down at the car fiercely. She sighed into the phone. "Is anyone going to see me like this?" she asked, grabbing her keys and her shoes and heading out the door.

"Yes," he replied, and she looked down at him in surprise, before she saw the light smirk on his face. She rubbed her eyes, yawning as she reached his car. "Where are we going?"

He grinned. _She looks so cute when she's half asleep_. "Dunder Mifflin," he replied, repeating it from earlier. _Or maybe all the way asleep._

"No," she groaned, and he laughed, knowing it wasn't meant to be a funny remark or even a coherent one. She'd just muttered the first thing that came to her mind when she thought of the office. "Why?" she asked a moment later, as if it finally dawned on her that not only did she not want to be at Dunder Mifflin bright and early on a Saturday morning, but she wasn't supposed to be either.

"Dwight's out of town," Jim replied. "We'll have the office all to ourselves."

"You're not chaining me to the desk," she yawned, her cheeks turning red as soon as she realized what she'd said. "I mean… where is Dwight?"

"National Radish Convention," Jim replied matter-of-factly, turning the car down the familiar street. "He and Mose are doing a presentation on beet coloring."

"Beet coloring? Is that like using them as crayons or something?" she asked, and he chuckled. _She's got a sense of humor even when she's half dead_.

"It's more like during Easter," he replied, and she quirked her eyebrow up. "Instead of dying eggs like the rest of the population, the Schrute family colors beets."

"My kids will totally be coloring beets," Pam said thoughtfully.

"Are you planning on having children with Dwight?" Jim asked, and Pam gagged a bit.

"Oh, that was mean," she said, covering her mouth, but that didn't prevent the giggles from escaping. "So, what does beet coloring really mean?"

"It means that there are different shades of colors for beets, and you're supposed to gather them at a certain color and sell them at a certain color, and Dwight and Mose are doing a presentation on when the color is acceptable."

"Oh," Pam said. "Will Dwight's lover Rahab Wilson be there selling her white beets?" Jim snorted, and she smiled. _Was that a snort? I just made Jim snort!_

She giggled, and he looked at her. "What?" He asked, pulling into the parking lot.

"You snorted," she replied, and he laughed lightly.

"We're here, hurry up."

"Hurry up?" she asked, smiling.

"Michael's coming in at 9, and we have a lot of work to do before then."

"Work?" she groaned. "I might have to go back to R is for Roy if you make me work on a date."

Jim looked shocked. "First of all, it's S is for Scumbag," she wrinkled her forehead. "Second of all, this isn't really work. It's just fun. And you can count this as part of our date tonight if you want, or you can just count it as a fun morning activity between two friends."

"I hardly call a 7 AM activity fun," she replied.

"Oh, funny, I seem to remember that you thought _Doug_ was pretty great last week."

"Shut up," she replied, climbing out of the car. He followed her lead, walking over to the side entrance of Dunder Mifflin. He flashed his electronic key at the door, opening it for her, and she smiled, climbing the stairs up to their floor. It wasn't until she got to the top of the stairs that she noticed the bag in his hands. "What's that?"

"Supplies," he replied.

"Such as…"

"Super-glue."

She grinned. "Oh! This is a prank!" He laughed, rolling his eyes and nodding slightly, as if to say, _duh, what else would we be doing here? You think I actually work?_ "What are we doing?" she asked, as he opened the door for her, leading her into the office.

"We," he said, taking her hand and pulling her to Dwight's desk, "are super-gluing every single one of Dwight's supplies to his desk."

"No!" She grinned, her eyes lighting up. "This is fantastic," she said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a bottle of super glue. She unscrewed the cap. "Do we get to do the stuff inside the desk drawer, too?"

"Everything down to the chair," he replied, and she grinned, taking his pencil cup and super-gluing it down to the desk. "I think when he gets here Monday morning, you should superglue the seat. The chair will already be super-glued to the floor. If you super-glue his ass to the chair…"

"You're cruel," she said, then smiled. "Just make sure you give me some super-glue so I can do it." He laughed, and she went on picking up his bobblehead. "Should I super-glue the bobblehead in any strange way?"

"Maybe on it's side?" Jim said, and she nodded, placing it sideways and super-gluing it to the desk.

"How's the chair coming?" she asked, when she'd successfully super-glued all of Dwight's objects—stapler, pencil cup, mug, bobblehead—to the desk.

"Give it a push, let's see," Jim replied, and Pam pushed it lightly, but instead of it giving way, she tripped and fell forward over the chair, laughing.

"I thought it would move," she replied, and Jim smiled at her, stealing a quick glance down her camisole. _Okay, you need to stand back up… I'm getting quite the view here, Bees… Not that I mind…_ "Okay, so I'm thinking I'm going to take all of the pencils out of the cup, superglue the bottom of the cup, and stick them back in."

"That sounds great," Jim replied, opening the door to his drawer. She stopped, looked at him, her eyes wide and a smile on her lips. "Oh my god, Jim."

He smiled. He loved that look of hers—the one she got when she came up with a brilliant prank and knew it. "What?" he asked, grinning. He knew his eyes were sparkling, but seeing her light up like that, he couldn't help it.

She winked at him, picking up the receiver to Dwight's phone, calling the number and effectively changed the ringtone to a high shrill. Jim grinned. She then took the super-glue, spreading it out over the receiver and grinned before placing it down on the cradle. Jim's eyes went wide. "Beesly." He stated, shaking his head softly. "Brilliant."

She smiled and curtsied softly, "Thank you." He laughed, finishing his project. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," he replied, and she rolled her eyes, smiling.

"I mean a real question," she replied, and he nodded. "What is your favorite Dunder Mifflin moment?"

"This one's climbing the charts," he replied, and she rolled her eyes.

"This isn't _Serendipity_, Jim. I'm serious."

"My favorite Dunder Mifflin moment, gee, I don't know," he replied, thinking. "There was the time Dwight and I spent two hours debating Meatloaf."

"I remember that," Pam smiled. "You were very adamant that you should be allowed to eat Meatloaf at a—what did you call it?—public dining establishment."

He laughed. "Oh, what about the time that Michael went up to Stanley and asked him if he celebrated Martin Luther King Day with his family?"

"Oh god, that was good!" Pam replied, laughing. "So inappropriate and horrible, but so good. And Stanley's face!"

"Priceless," Jim replied, laughing.

Pam grinned, "And the famous Vending Machine trick of '06."

"Also fantastic," Jim replied. "I don't know, we've had a lot of good times. Threat Level Midnight…"

"Starring Agent Michael Scarn!" she squealed, and he laughed. She raced into Michael's office, digging through his desk drawers until she found it. "Oh my god, Jim," she said, leafing through it. "He's added on!"

Jim's eyes went wide as he ran toward her. "Oh my god," he laughed, taking it from her. "Nice work, Beesly!" She smiled, remembering how he'd uttered the same phrase last time. He was staring at her with a slight smile, and she knew he was remembering the same thing.

"We should make copies," he stated, and she smiled, reaching for the papers to go do her receptionist duty. "I can do it," he said, smiling. "You, keep super-gluing."

She came back a moment later, just as he'd finished putting the final super glue patch inside Dwight's desk. "Here's your copy, sir," she said, and he smiled. She skipped back into Michael's office, laying the original back where she'd found it. He was looking through the screenplay with a faraway look on his face, and she smiled. "The day we found this was one of my favorite Dunder Mifflin memories," she said softly.

"Yeah, Dwigt was pretty funny," he smiled, looking over at her. She smiled back, and then looked at the carpet, wondering if she was brave enough to say what she meant.

"Yeah, but I was talking about something else that happened that day," she replied, opening one eye and looking at him out of the corner of it. He smiled.

"Yeah, it was one of my favorites too," he said. He walked into the kitchen, grabbing two bowls and pouring cheerios into them with some of the milk in the refrigerator. "Here, let's recreate."

"R is for recreating?" she said, smiling broadly.

"R is for remembering."

"Reminiscing," she corrected, and he looked at her funny. "It's worth more points on the SAT."

"Oh, I'll make sure to study it then," he chuckled, helping her up to the roof with her cheerios.

"R is for roof," she said quickly, grinning. She was hugging herself, holding the Cheerios close to her, and he smiled, taking his jacket off and draping it over her shoulders. She smiled up at him and walked over to the picnic chairs they'd left out just a few months ago when they'd eaten dinner at the roof. It wasn't often that they did, but when they did, she always came away feeling rejuvenated and ready to face her life. She'd already started to sit when she heard him yelling at her. She turned around, looking at him. "What?" she asked, his words a blur.

"It's wet, you might not want to sit down," he replied. She looked down, for the first time noticing the puddle in the seat of the chair. She laughed. "I think it rained last night," he explained, and she nodded, walking over to where he was sitting on the concrete. She sat next to him, taking a bite of cereal.

"Well, we've had breakfast and dinner here… What happened to lunch?" she asked, smiling.

"Lunch?" he pondered, his finger to his lips. "I guess we've just never done it. We'll have to do it later." She nodded, smiling, when he continued, "So, I have a question."

"Shoot," she replied, staring straight ahead.

"Do you fall asleep to music?"

"Yep," she replied, smiling. "Actually, I didn't used to. My parents never played any of the white noise crap or anything for me when I was little. They were kind of over it… but I had a friend in high school that couldn't fall asleep without music, and I thought that was kind of cool. I tried really hard to train myself to it, and finally I did."

"So you have to have it to fall asleep now?" Jim asked.

"Well, not really. I mean, I can manage, it's just more difficult," she replied. "For the longest time, I couldn't fall asleep if I had music on, so this is definitely a step up."

"Ah," he said, nodding. "What do you fall asleep to?"

She yawned. "It depends. At first it was all Beatles and softer songs… A few Gavin songs, lots of Blackbird type songs… A Stephen Speaks tune… Just the soft lullaby-ish types… Now I can pretty much fall asleep to anything."

"Metallica?"

"If I had a Metallica CD, I'm sure I could fall asleep to it," she replied, smiling. He nodded, his mind whirling. They were quiet for a moment, before she piped up, "what about you?"

"I've always fallen asleep to music," he said. She smiled. "My parents were totally not over it when I was little. It worked magic on Janice, so they wanted to try it on me and see how it worked. And of course, I was lulled." He paused. "But it has to be really soft music, almost classical. Right now it's Enya."

"You drift away to Enya?" Pam smiled, teasing him. He shrugged and nodded. "How adorable."

"I know," he replied, chuckling. "I can't believe you fall asleep to music."

"Why?" she asked, bewildered.

"No girls ever seemed to. It was a real problem when I'd have a girl spend the night. I could never fall asleep," he said. She laughed.

"I'm sure it was a real problem."

"What?" he asked, picking up on the edge in her voice.

"Nothing, nothing," she waved her hand nonchalantly, laughing to herself. He stared at her, and she finally broke down. "Okay, okay, geez. I was just teasing you in my head, saying you couldn't have had a huge problem since you didn't have that many girls spending the night."

He laughed. "You should have said that louder, it's pretty funny." She rolled her eyes, smiling. "But, I'll have you know I'm more man than you think I am."

"Having a lot of sex doesn't make you a man, Jim," she said, a little more curtly than she intended. She heard him swallow next to her, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see him gazing into the sky. She wasn't sure if he was just thinking or if she'd hurt his feelings, but at that moment, she didn't really care. What she had said was true. She knew it was. She knew Jim knew it was. She was done apologizing for speaking the truth.

A minute later, she heard him lick his lips, and she turned to him as he spoke, "I guess you're right."

"I am," she replied, knowing full-well she was.

"You just hear it all the time. I guess I never stopped to think how right you were," he shook his head lightly. She nodded, taking another bite of her cheerios. They were almost gone, and when they were, she wasn't sure what activity she was going to do to keep herself busy while he talked. "I guess it's just become a sort of competition or something between guys. You know? Who can _bang_ the most chicks." She winced at his word choice, though she knew he was just making a point and didn't really refer to it that way.

"Well, you guys should remember that the chicks you're _banging_ to make your point have feelings," she said. "And sometimes it hurts!"

"I can see how it would hurt your feelings."

She laughed. "Well, that too."

"What?"

"I meant, it hurts sometimes," she said, blushing. "You know…"

He grinned, "I have no idea what you mean."

"Yes you do," she replied, bringing an empty spoon to her mouth.

"You're eating air," he said, and she swallowed the air, glancing at him. "It hurts, huh?"

"At first," she said, looking around. "It's getting really hot up here. Can we go down now? Michael should be here soon… I have laundry to do, today."

"Which one of those are you going to go with?" he asked, standing up. She bit her lip, inwardly groaning. _Oh, shut up, funny guy._

"All of them," she replied, grabbing her spoon and bowl and tossing them into the trashcan. He laughed, helping her down the ladder and back into the office. She sighed. _They can never just end on the good note, can they?_

* * *

She walked through the door to her apartment at 11:04, aware that half her apartment building had just seen her in her pajamas, but she didn't really care. It wasn't nearly as awkward as going out with Jim in her pajamas. She'd always felt exposed in her sleepwear—after all, it was all of her held up by two thin, thin straps. At least the bottoms were cute, but she couldn't help but think that there was no way Jim was only looking at her pants. He was either totally looking down her shirt, or trying his hardest not to look at her nowhere near perfect body.

She sighed, running into her bedroom to throw a t-shirt on over her camisole. She wasn't in public anymore, and really, it didn't matter if she was naked or completely clothed like Angela, but something about being so exposed in public, in front of Jim, for so long made her want to cover up quickly. She felt almost dirty… Not in a way she could describe. It was mostly just that she'd shown Jim a lot of herself without meaning to. Now she just felt the need to cover up.

She grabbed her laundry basket, throwing all of the clothes that lay discarded on the floor around her into it, and carried it over to her washing machine, starting her first and only load of laundry. Her mother had told her once that you should separate your colors from your whites, but honestly, she never did. She didn't really see much of a reason to. Besides, she didn't care if her underwear was pink.

After grilling a few slices of Muenster cheese in between two buttered pieces of bread (honestly, a one slice grilled cheese was kind of wimpy), she pulled out her laptop, downloading some Metallica songs to her hard drive. _I bet I can fall asleep to this stuff, no problem._ She took a few bites of her grilled cheese sandwich, yawning. It wasn't every day she was woken up at 7:30 in the morning. Okay, really, it was every day she was, but today was different. Today was Saturday. The entire world designated Saturday as sleeping-in day, so what was Jim thinking?

She smiled to herself as the songs appeared in her music library, taking bites from her grilled cheese sandwich. She grabbed a banana off the counter, peeling it open and cutting it into slices. Everyone always made fun of her because she ate her bananas in slices, but really, they just tasted better that way. When you just peeled and ate a banana, you got more of the insides, but when you sliced, you got the perfect proportion of the outside rigidity and the inside mushiness, and she liked it that way. She used to take huge bites of the banana, when she was with Roy, and sometimes, it made her want to gag. But now that she was free and independent, she could eat her banana in slices and be fine.

She finished her lunch just as her last song downloaded onto her mp3 player, and grabbing it, she wandered into her room, her cell phone in hand. She quickly set the alarm on her phone to a little after four, figuring she'd put a little more effort into her outfit today, seeing as their date that night was just dinner, and thus, more intimate. Besides, she'd done a horrible job of accentuating her more attractive qualities earlier that day; the least she could do was make up for it by dressing nicer that night. And as her grandmother always said, the first step to being dressed well is being rested well.

She placed her cell phone on the counter next to her and plugged the music in, the sounds of Metallica filling her room. _Oh God, I forgot how clashy they were._ She crawled into bed, yawning uncontrollably. She nestled down against the pillow, her eyes closed, sounds drifting in and out around her. Her thoughts drifted from work to Jim to their date that night to how much she loved a good grilled cheese sandwich. She couldn't escape the loud music blaring from her speakers though. She groaned, reaching over and changing her playlist. _He's crazy_. She settled into bed, trying to get just a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.

When her alarm sounded all too quickly, she lazily turned it up and smiled softly at the ceiling, thinking of how excited she was for her evening plans. She wasn't sure what R stood for, but she had no doubt in her mind that Jim would continue to blow her away. When he first thought of the idea, she'd thought he'd be hard pressed to not only think of a date for each letter, but to actually woo her. And yet, somehow, he'd done both, surprisingly well.

She rolled out of bed, her feet grazing the floor. _When did I start falling for him? He's my best friend._ She walked over to the closet, smilingly as she pulled out _the_ dress she was going to wear that night. The one he'd loved. The expensive one that, when she'd looked at the price trying it on, made her gasp. The one that cost more than a full week's salary at Dunder-Mifflin, and yet, she'd bought it.

She knew she looked good in it. She wasn't completely self-confident in her looks, but she would have to be an idiot to think she didn't look good in that dress. She'd just been fishing for compliments with Jim, something that she now realized she'd never needed to do. She'd always known olive green was her color, but that dress… She knew it made her look ravishing, and Jim's stuttering had only heightened that knowledge.

She ran her hands down the silky fabric of the dress, knowing how surprised he would be when he saw it. She smiled, walking into the bathroom and pulling out her rollers, knowing that he wouldn't care what her hair looked like, but she got the most compliments when she curled it. Besides, she'd heard him say something to Toby once about how he loved a woman with curls. Which had seemed odd to her, seeing as at the time he'd been dating Katy, and any girlfriend of his she'd ever known about at the time had had straight hair. Now, it didn't seem so strange to her.

It felt ridiculous, walking around with rollers in her hair. It burned her scalp lightly, but there was nothing she could do about that now. After all, her scalp wasn't what was going to be alluring to Jim. The curls would do the trick, though.

She filled the bathtub with bath salts and warm water and slowly relaxed her body into it, making certain to hold her head up high so her hair—and more importantly, the rollers—wouldn't get wet. She felt the wet moisture on her skin and she breathed in the scent of lavender, sighing softly. Lavender. It had always been her favorite scent—she often sank into the bathtub with a book and some lavender bath salts after a long day. It used to be her Friday routine, until Jim started surprising her on Friday nights every now and then. Now, she had to be careful. But today she had time, and she knew he wouldn't be banging on the door anytime soon.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent, going through the order of her pre-date getup. Hair, makeup, dress… Nail polish, shave mixed somewhere in there. She giggled softly as she remembered watching a movie once where one woman told another that she shouldn't shave on a date because hairy legs were her only link to reality. The thought of needing the hair on her legs to keep her from going farther with Jim made her stomach flip lightly. She leaned forward, suddenly aware of how much heavier her head felt with the curlers on top. She grabbed the razor off the side of the bathtub and slowly shaved her legs, trying her hardest to get every single hair that was sprouting up. She shaved far down by her ankles, knowing that there were often random, stubborn hairs there that kept her from having the clean shave she wanted. She giggled. _I wonder if Jim knows that some women have hair on their ankles? I bet that's the easiest way to dash his dreams._

After twenty-five minutes, she'd shaved each leg twice, making painstakingly clear that her legs would shine without the added disturbance of a great forest sprouting out of her skin. She climbed out of the bath tub, not even bothering with the towel, marveling in how good it felt to be free, walking around completely exposed to nothing but the air. _I've always wanted to do this, but I've always been scared some random robber might come in or something_. She giggled. She lifted her leg up, applying lotion to her now smooth legs and took in the smell, a slight vanilla mixed with the sultry lavender from earlier. She was swimming in the amazing scents.

She quickly applied deodorant, wanting to let it set before she ever put on her dress. There was no way she was going to ruin Jim's perfectly excellent dinner plans with deodorant stains. _Oh, come on, Pam… You don't know his plans are that elaborate. He simply said to meet him at his place for dinner. That's it!_ But yet, she had her suspicions.

She wiped her hands off, and then proceeded to pluck her eyebrows, wincing a bit at the sting. Once she'd managed to turn her face into a red blotch, she smiled, grabbing her bottle of nail polish and reapplying it to her toes, a soft, baby pink color. She smiled, blowing on them lightly as she checked the clock on her bedside table, knowing it was past-time to pull the curlers out. She waited until she was sure her toes were dry before she went in front of the mirror and pulled them out one by one, letting the hot curls dip next to her face. She grinned, wrapping a towel around herself and admiring her hair in the mirror. _Okay, that definitely looks good._

She glanced at the clock again, this time more for the time than the countdown of when she could release her hair. 5:15. She had about an hour and a half left. It certainly wouldn't take her that long. It only took her thirty minutes to apply all of her makeup, and when she did, she could hardly believe it looked that good on her. She always messed up her makeup, or her nail polish, or something. Any time she wanted to look great, she always managed to mess _something_ up. But today, fate was on her side.

She slipped a thin, silver necklace over her neck, a heart attached to it on the side. She thought about where it'd come from when she put it on. It hadn't been Roy, actually. She was sure Jim would think it had, but at that point, she didn't really care because it was the perfect necklace for her outfit. Her father had given it to her on her sixteenth birthday. He'd said she needed something more sophisticated now that she was growing up. She smiled, remembering.

_She was standing in the middle of her bedroom, a soft, yellow-painted room with a blue and pink bedspread. Her parents had a rule about bedrooms. Every time Pam or one of her sisters went to a new school, they got to completely redo their bedrooms. Her middle school bedroom had been a fuchsia colored one and the bedspread had been fuchsia and a dark, deep blue. She'd liked it, but when the lights were out and it was late at night, she'd always felt kind of lonely and depressed in the room, and the fact that the lights didn't work that well anyway didn't really contribute to her overall happiness that much._

_Her final exam in eighth grade had been a presentation—one of the presentations teachers said were on "anything" but really, they weren't. Her teacher at the time, Mrs. Harrison, had given out a list of possible topics. Pam had been absent from school that day with the flu, so when she'd came back two days later, she'd been informed that her project was on Seasonal Affective Disorder. She didn't know anything about it, and at first, she complained and complained, but as she researched it, she realized how glad she was that she had._

_She'd found out a lot about herself when she did. Why she always seemed to be so miserable and unhappy in the colder, darker months. Something about the chemical imbalance of serotonin in her brain made her so. It wasn't that life randomly got a lot worse in the winter months, it was just that she didn't get the amount of light she'd needed to continue to function in her normally upbeat, positive attitude._

_When it'd come time to redo her room the summer before ninth grade, she'd made up her mind that this year she wasn't going to be down. She wasn't going to be depressed in high school, and if she was, it wasn't going to be over something as stupid as light imbalance in her brain. So she'd painted her walls a bright yellow, figuring that even if her lights were out, yellow was bright enough to keep her at least somewhat cheerful. Her bedspread had been brighter, and all of the darker wall hangings and random gadgets in her room were removed and replaced with brighter, pastel colors. And, she'd started changing the light bulbs, instead of just letting them go out when they did._

_So she stood in the middle of her light infested room, ruffling through her dresser drawer. Her jeans were tattered at the knee, but she liked them that way. She had a style about her now. If you asked someone, they wouldn't say she had a style, but she did. It was the "I'm not trying" style, and she wore the same thing every day: tattered jeans, an artsy tank top (usually with paint stains somewhere on it), her hair back in a ponytail, and perhaps, a baseball cap on her head. It wasn't an edgy look, but it was her look, and she liked it._

_The problem was that tonight she was going out to dinner with her family, and ever since she was younger, her grandmother had always told the three Beesly girls that going out to dinner meant dressing up. So, instead of wearing her normal outfit of tattered jeans and paint splotched tank tops, she was wearing a pink skirt. It was one of those skirts that her mom had bought her for the two obligatory Sundays they attended church. It was subtle enough that nobody would notice she wore it for both Christmas and Easter, and yet, it was fancy enough that she wasn't out of place when she did. Her blue polo shirt was in her dresser, only left over from the few weeks in the summer she'd worked at her Dad's office. He'd required that any teenagers working in his office wear khaki pants and polo shirts. She owned two pairs of khaki pants and three polo shirts from the occasion, and it just so happened that blue and pink didn't clash that bad—at least not as bad as pink and orange or red. _

_She heard a knock on the door, and muttered a slight "mmhmm," loud enough for whoever was outside of it to hear, and then glanced up as she saw her father enter her room. She smiled. "Hey Dad."_

_"Hi," he said, walking toward her, and she stood up, looking at him expectedly. They'd never had a wonderful relationship. To be honest, she always felt a bit awkward around him—except when she was watching football on the couch next to him. She was desperately afraid that he might be able to see past her. See into her and figure out that there wasn't something quite right about his daughter. Something about being vulnerable scared the shit out of her._

_"You look great," he smiled, and she nodded, muttering a small thank you. She knew he meant it—it wasn't that she thought he was just brushing it off as something he was supposed to say. But knowing that he meant it made it even more awkward. He'd never been one to use words to show her how he felt, and she'd always seen love as something that had to be said—not something shown. It was just a difference in perceiving things. But hearing him say she looked good, well, that was just a little bit awkward._

_He smiled, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Beautiful, actually," he said, and she blushed, fighting back the tears that were threatening to form in her eyes. He never spoke to her this way, and it killed her to know that he could speak one sentence and it would send tears falling from her eyes. "It's hard to believe you're sixteen, already," he said, sighing. She smiled, knowing what was coming up. "It was just yesterday you were sticking peas and carrots up your nose."_

_She laughed. "Well, it was actually fifteen years ago, but okay, Dad." She wanted to slap herself. Why couldn't she just go with what he had to say? Why did she have to make a clever quip about everything? He was being real and vulnerable with her, and all she could do was cover up her vulnerability with sarcastic remarks._

_He smiled. "I got you something," he said, handing her a wrapped box. She knew without even opening it that it was some sort of jewelry. He'd given her a box like this before, but it had only been a remote to her TV. However, now that she had the remote, she couldn't imagine it would be anything else. She looked down at it, then back at him, surprise etched on her face. "Go ahead, open it," he said softly, and she obeyed._

_She gasped as she opened the jewelry box, fingering the long, white box with the silver necklace inside. She wanted to speak—to tell him how beautiful it was, how much it meant to her, how she would treasure it, but no words came out. It was simply there, and all she could do was breathe. He studied her face for a moment, and she smiled, lifting it out of the case and taking the heart in her hand, smiling as she realized what it was. It was as if all of a sudden her father had told her he loved her, and this time, she understood it, even without the words._

_"Here, I'll put it on you," he said, and she smiled, turning her back to him and sweeping her hair to the side as he clasped it around her neck. It fit perfectly over her, hitting her chest at just the right place and she turned back to him, smiling._

_"Thank you," she said softy, and he nodded, giving her a slight hug. She felt the warmth in his hug, even if it was a bit shallow, and she sighed inside, realizing, for the first time, that her father actually loved her. Knowing it was one thing, but when she finally realized it, she'd felt free._

She smiled, remembering the memory, tears forming in her eyes once more. She thought of her father, and how much their relationship had changed over the years. She loved her Dad, and it didn't take her long to remember that when she held the necklace in her hands. She fingered it softly before letting it fall back against her chest, and she smiled, looking at herself in the mirror. The soft curls, the make up, the necklace. She looked beautiful in a way that she knew would awe Jim.

When she slipped the dress over her body, she was awed herself.

* * *

She rapped on the door softly three times, feeling more apprehensive and less confident with each second following the knocks. _Am I too dressed up? Does my make up look okay? Oh god, do I have something in my teeth?_ She was just about to pick at her teeth when she heard his footsteps on the other side of the door. She smiled, despite her fears.

"Hold on, I'm coming," she heard him call, and she could hear him fumbling with the locks. She giggled lightly, knowing he'd always had trouble getting the locks undone. "This damn door," he said, and she laughed. She wasn't prepared for his face when the door opened, but she'd never forget it.

His eyes went wide and his eyebrows shot up, and she thought she saw him lick his lips, but she wasn't sure. She was too busy smiling at how much he was gawking at her. He stuttered over his words, and she could tell he'd been trying to invite her in, but all he'd been able to say was the one syllable "wow". She smiled, as he continued, "You look…"

"Ravishing?" she asked, trying to sound more cool and collected than she felt. She'd always hated people giving her lavish attention, but for some reason when she was with Jim she both loved and hated it even more.

"Better," he smiled, opening the door farther. She walked in, handing him her jean jacket, and she could feel him breathe heavier behind her. The air felt chilly on her shoulders, but she felt warmth everywhere else.

She looked around his apartment, "oh my god, Jim…" She was gushing; she knew she was, but the vision in front of her made her feel like a movie star. There were candles lit all over the house—the smells of lavender, rose, vanilla, the beach filling her nose and making her wonder if he even noticed the lavender vanilla smell of her body. She smiled over at him. "This is beautiful."

He smiled, taking her arm in his, "this way, mademoiselle." She giggled at his mispronunciation of mademoiselle—or at least that's what she told herself she was giggling at. Really, her heart just felt so alive and free she wasn't quite sure what the giggling was about, it just felt like the only appropriate response. He led her into the kitchen, pulling out her seat for her, and she gasped when she saw the table. He'd lit it with candles, placed petals of white and red roses all over the table, and she smiled, picking one up and smelling it.

"So you went back and got the dress," he said, filling two glasses with wine. She smiled as she watched him, nodding lightly.

"A little birdy told me my date liked it," she said softly, smiling. He smiled, handing her one of the glasses.

"Well, if the little birdy was referring to me, he was right," he smiled. She blushed. He held out his glass to her, "what should we toast to?"

"The ABCs?" she asked, and he nodded.

"To the ABCs," he said, clinking his glass against hers and taking a sip. He set his glass down next to his plate and grabbed hers, serving her a chicken breast. She smiled, "I hope you're not allergic to brie," he said.

"I'm not, monsieur," she said, teasing him. He quickly dished up some vegetables on her plate and set it down in front of her.

"Oh wow, this looks delicious," she said, watching him scoop his own food onto his plate. "I can't believe you made this."

"I am Chef Halpert," he said, kissing his fingers and raising them to the air. She smiled, cutting open a piece of her brie stuffed chicken breast and tasting it.

"Mmm," she said, and he smiled. She took a sip of her wine and looked over at him, noticing that he was staring at her. "Are you enjoying your view?" she asked, shocked at her own boldness.

He swallowed, apparently shocked as well. "Very much," he said, and she blushed, looking down at her plate. "You're very beautiful."

She smiled, "you're not so shabby yourself." He nodded a thank you to her, and she smiled as they continued to eat. They weren't talking incessantly, but they weren't completely silent. Pam was having a hard time deciding whether to hide her smile or let it show, and Jim was having a hard time deciding whether he should stare at her or pretend not to notice. Neither of them were very successful in figuring out whether they should concentrate on each other or the meal.

"Make sure you save room for dessert," Jim smiled when Pam had eaten about half of her plate. She laughed.

"Don't you mean, make sure you save room for the main meal?" she asked, and he arched his eyebrow. "Everyone knows dessert is the most important part of the meal."

He grinned. "You're my kind of woman." She smiled and glanced down at her plate, taking another forkful of the chicken before looking back up at him.

"What is for dessert?"

"You'll see," he smiled, and she stuck her lip out further. He laughed. "You are such a little kid."

"Even in this dress?" she asked, pursing her lips together and cocking her head to the side. She knew he was attracted to her, and she hadn't been completely oblivious to his desperate attempts to look away from her, but now she was staring at him, obviously commanding him to look at her in all of her beauty, and he wasn't flustering at all.

He smiled back at her. "You definitely don't look like a little kid in that dress," he said, and she could tell he was fighting the urge to look lower than her face, but somehow, he was succeeding. She leaned forward lightly, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh?" she teased.

"Oh come on," he said, and she laughed, settling back against her chair. "You know that drives me crazy."

"What drives you crazy?" she asked, giving off the façade of composure, but really, the insides of her were jumping all over the place. He muttered something she couldn't quite clear, and she wrinkled her eyebrows. _What did he say? Do I ask him to repeat it?_ "What drives you crazy?" she asked again, louder.

"You," he replied simply.

"Me?" she asked.

"You… and your…" he couldn't figure out how to say it without making her feel violated and without being too boyish and innocent. "You look beautiful regardless, but when you lean forward like that..." He looked down at his meal, quickly taking a bite, as if she would be fooled that he already had food in his mouth and therefore couldn't finish his sentence. She wasn't saying anything, and for a moment, he thought she might be angry. He looked upward with one eye, and for the first time he saw his favorite Pam smile—the one where she pursed her lips, trying to contain a smile in an awkward time, but really, he always knew it was there, waiting to be unleashed.

"I'm done," she said, pushing her plate to the center of the table. He grinned, standing up and taking hers and his in his arms and carrying them over to the sink. She started to stand up to help, but he quickly stopped her with a shake of his head and his arm outstretched. She didn't protest, like he thought she might, but instead she just obliged, remaining in her seat as he cleared the table and blew out the candles. "Wait! What about dessert?" she asked, a little too eagerly. She blushed right afterwards and he smiled.

"We'll get to it, don't worry," he said, and she relaxed a bit. "I really, honestly think if you were to be in Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory you would be the first to go." She laughed. He loved the sound of her laugh.

"But I think it would be fun to blow up to the size of a blueberry," she replied, and he smiled.

"You wouldn't make it long enough to even see someone do so," he replied and she nodded.

"You're probably right," she said, and he smiled, coming back over to her side and patting her shoulder.

"Of course I am," he said, and she smiled up at him. He winked, before breaking her gaze and turning to the refrigerator and pulling out boxes and boxes of food. She turned around, watching him, but she couldn't see inside the plain white boxes.

"What is it?" she asked excitedly.

"Patience is a virtue," he replied, and she groaned.

"Screw virtues," she said softly, and he laughed, emptying the boxes onto a clear plastic platter and carrying them into the living room. She smiled as she watched him place it inside a huge circle of candles and rose petals. He then lit something in the middle of the circle, but she couldn't see it—his couch was blocking the way. "What is it?" she asked again, exasperated as she tried to peer over the couch. He came back into the kitchen, grabbing four metal tongs and extended his arm to her. She smiled and took it as he led her into the living room. She stepped inside of the circle of candles, lowering herself to the floor carefully as he lit the candles and poured pieces of chocolate and other random liquids she'd never seen before into a little pot. "Mmm," she murmured.

"You like?" he asked, looking up at her. She nodded, smiling.

"I've always loved fondue. I was so depressed when Scranton's Melting Pot closed down."

"Scranton had a Melting Pot?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, it went out of business a few years before you got here," she said. "All of those huge prices don't fare well with Scranton."

"Right," he said, sitting down next to her. "We have to let it simmer for a little bit, and then you can have your pick." She smiled, looking over at the platter filled with all sorts of random goodies—cherries and strawberries, shortcake, marshmallows, and her favorite, little pieces of frozen brownies.

"You went all out," she smiled at him. He smiled back at her, and she could feel her heart beating more rapidly. He was staring at her with such an intensity she felt she might buckle under the pressure radiating from him. He leaned forward, his eyes fluttering lightly, and she closed hers. She felt his hands on her cheeks and she reveled in the warmth of his touch before her lips touched his softly, perfectly. It felt so good to kiss him, and she leaned into him more, running her fingers through his hair. _Mmm. _It felt so good; she surprised herself when she pulled away from him.

"Jim," she said softly, and he opened his eyes and looked at her, concern on his face. _I can't… Not yet. I'm not ready for this. I trust Jim… I just can't… _Her heart hurt, and there was nothing she could do but think of how she was about to mess everything up. She hadn't wanted to do this to him, but she couldn't help it. _I need to be myself. I can't fall into this trap of letting someone else be in charge of what I'm thinking and doing… I like doing what I want to do. I don't want to just go through this blindly and if I get into something with him… Oh, God, I'll just want to please him all the time… I won't stick up for myself. _Her mind was screaming.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, softly. "I thought we…"

"No, I know," she said, waving her arm in the air lightly._ I just broke his heart. I led him on. Oh God, I'm that girl… The one that flaunts herself until he finally brings up the courage and then breaks his heart. No! I don't want to be that girl…_ They sat in silence for a moment, watching the chocolate in the fondue pot. She wanted to explain, and yet, she felt if she did, she might cause even more of a problem than if she didn't. _If I tell him I don't trust him enough that he'll let me be my own person, he'll get angry. And is that even it? I don't think so… I just don't trust myself. I'm just going to want to do everything he does to make him happy… What if I just stop doing things for myself again? I can't do that. It ruined my life last time._ He sighed next to her and she turned to look up at him, worry etched across her face. _God, Jim… I want to do this… I really want to kiss you… be with you… I just want it to be right._ "It's not that I didn't want to," she said softly.

He nodded, and she could tell he was angry with her. She'd spent the whole evening leading him on, and here she was, breaking him down. "What was it, then?" he asked, a bit bitingly, but she knew he was trying to be soft with her. It came out meaner than he'd intended; she knew that. She knew him.

"I'm just not ready yet," she said softly. _I wish I was… _He nodded. "I don't know why or what it is… I just panicked." _Panicked? Oh, God, I shouldn't have used that word… but I did panic. Am I really scared of this? Did Roy really make me scared of this? No, it wasn't Roy… It was just the situation… And I'm not scared of Jim… I'm just scared of the person I was when I was in that relationship with Roy… I don't want to be that person again…_

"You panicked," he repeated.

"Not about you…" she said softly, and she could feel tears threatening to form in her eyes. "It's just that I'm still…" she paused, thinking of the words, "learning how to be independent and be myself, and I don't want to stop that… I need to learn how to be me without someone else dictating who I am, you know?"

"Am I dictating who you are, Pam?" he asked, and she knew she'd wounded him.

_No! No! No! _"No," she replied honestly, and he looked at her in exasperation. "Jim, I'm not expecting you to understand all of this… It's just that I've been dependent for so long, and if there's someone else to depend on in my life, I'm going to revert back to that… I need to learn how to be independent first." _Please… Can you please just accept that? I don't know how much more I can say? I haven't even figured this out in my own head? God, it's being sprung on me just as much as it's being sprung on you… Damn it._

He nodded.

She touched his arm, and he didn't recoil or accept her touch, really. "Look at me, please?" She asked, and when he did, she didn't see anger in his eyes, only hurt. The kind of hurt he'd seen in her eyes just months before. Weak, vulnerable hurt. _I did that to him. I never meant to hurt you, Jim… I promise… Please forgive me for this… _"It's not that I don't have the same feelings," she said softly, _how am I being this bold with him? I would never have said that before…_ "It's just that I can't act on them yet…"

He nodded. "Okay."

"I just don't want to just slide into anything, you know?" she asked, and he nodded slightly. "I... With Roy… We just started kissing and all of a sudden we were in a relationship and it wasn't healthy, and I don't want that with you."

"What do you want with me?" he asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't know," she replied honestly. They were silent for a moment as she thought about him and their relationship. _I don't know, Jim. If I tell you what I want, you won't understand why I can't just go for it right now. Why can't I just kiss you? That's what I want to do. I want to be in a relationship with you. I'm falling for you… but for some reason, I just can't…_ "Right now, I just want my best friend," she said softly, and he winced at the words. She buried her head in her hands, and she half-expected his hand to rub her back, but it didn't. He was sitting next to her in a ball. _How do I tell him how much I want him? I feel like I'm just talking myself into circles, and he won't ever understand… But, I don't want to lose him. Not over this…_ She looked up at him a moment later, smiling even though it was obvious she had been crying. "Later, Jim," she said softly, and he nodded. "When I'm ready…"

He nodded to himself before turning and looking at her. "I'm sorry I rushed you," he said softly, picking up a tong and stirring the chocolate fondue so it wouldn't stick to the bottom.

"I'm sorry too," she said softly. He nodded and looked at her for a moment.

"Will you let me know when you're ready?"

"Of course," she smiled. _This man is too amazing for words… He's actually going to wait for me? Because it's not hard enough denying him now anyway…_ "I'll pull you into the chocolate river with me."

"What?" he laughed, and she smiled, sticking a piece of pineapple into the fondue set.

"Haven't you ever seen Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? Someone falls into the chocolate river and gets taken out of the factory."

"Really? I don't remember that part… Are you sure you're not making that up?" he asked, smiling at her. She looked up at him, smiling back.

"That's how I remember it… Plus, it sounds good."

He laughed. "Well, then, I'll look forward to accompanying you down a chocolate river." She grinned, and he smiled, pointing at a marshmallow. "That one looks like Freddie Kruger."

"What?" she asked, jumping a bit. He laughed and she swatted him on the arm. She stabbed Freddie Kruger with her tong and put him in the fire, sticking her tongue out at Jim. He laughed at her, and she smiled.

It only took thirty minutes for them to devour the fondue once they'd started. They'd eaten nearly everything on the platter, making true of Pam's earlier statement that dessert was the most important part of the meal. It was almost 11 by the time they'd finished dessert, and even though both wanted to stay and keep talking and laughing, Jim's yawns were becoming much too elaborate for Pam to easily pretend like she didn't notice them. Around 10:50 she stood up, smiling, "I'll let you get to bed," she teased.

"Thanks," he said, yawning halfway through it. "Sorry I'm such a dud tonight."

She smiled and shook her head, "you were in no way, shape or form a dud," she replied. She grabbed her purse and her keys as Jim grabbed her jacket, draping it over her shoulders. She smiled at him. "Thanks."

"Sure," he replied, opening the door for her. She was almost out the door, when he remembered something. "Wait!" he called at her, and when she stopped, he ran into the living room and came back with a white box, much the same as the one the necklace from her father ha come in over ten years ago. Her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped lightly as she smiled up at him with both her eyes and her mouth, and he smiled back. "Open it."

She did, easily, pulling out a small piece of leather attached to a key ring. "It's not much," he said, but she smiled when she turned it over, for once seeing the word _Sylvia_ stitched into the leather. It looked like he'd made it himself out of a scrap of leather; he'd branded not only Sylvia on the short ring, but also little pictures of cars and flowers in the background. He'd colored the cars in the closest blue that matched Sylvia, and the flowers were white like the lilies he'd gotten her during their L date. Sylvia's name was in a midnight blue, dark enough that it jumped out in front of the cars and flowers, but in no way took away from the exquisiteness of the background.

She smiled, running her finger down it. "Thank you," she said softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. He smiled, pulling her closer and hugging her back. "You made it yourself didn't you?" she asked.

"Mmhmm," he said, smiling. "I'm glad you like it."

"I do," she replied. "And Sylvia will love it. How did you do it?"

He laughed. "I used to go to a summer camp where we took scraps of leather to make nametags. We'd dip the leather in the chlorine in the pool and then we'd brand our names and whatever else we wanted to into it, and then after that we'd just paint them with paint pens. I thought I'd make you one. Your key ring is kind of bland."

"I love it," she smiled. "I really do, thank you." He nodded, and she smiled. "I'll see you later. Thanks for dinner once again. I had a really great time."

"Me too," he replied as she walked out to her car. He watched, his hand on the door as he leaned against the frame, as she got in her car and drove off. He sighed, closed the door behind him, and began to pick up the mess from that evening. _Damn it, Roy… Why'd you have to thwart her independence? _He sighed. _Patience is a virtue, Jim… You've been waiting for years… A few more years can't kill you. _Somehow, he wasn't convinced that was true.

* * *

Don't hate me? Review, please? I'll try and get the next one up within a week! 


	20. S is for Snyder

Well, here it is. The longest chapter of them all. I was told once that in order to write a novel, you have to have about 300 typed pages. With this chapter, I have more than that (for the entire story). Isn't that ridiculous?

Disclaimer: I don't own Jim or Pam, or the town of Snyder. I do, however, own all of the secondary characters mentioned here, all of the events mentioned here, and pretty much everything written about in this chapter. So, don't sue me, Greg Daniels. Start producing our 6 new episodes of The Office!

That's right guys, the strike will be over tomorrow night. 6 new episodes will be produced. :)

Reviews:

Henantz- Thanks! Hopefully you like this chapter even more than the "heartbreaking" one!  
Kristine- Hah, which woman could? Honestly!  
CoffeeObsessed- Thanks, and yep, you're right :)  
Nat- Thanks so much! Fun PMing with you, too. Hope you had fun Saturday night! And yay for the strike being almost over!!  
Lunar- That is NOT why I made it so they aren't together. Point blank, I just don't think they're ready. I could write a story and have them get together in B if I wanted to, but it just didn't feel right.  
SmallTuna- biting is gross, yes.  
Elizabeth- Wow, okay, about Jim's POV... It's not necessarily that the chapters are in Pam's POV, it's just that they're more focused on her character. I have a hard time plugging into Jim's character, and for the most part, this story has been about Pam growing. That will shift in future chapters... It will be more focused on Jim (as this one definitely is), but it will never be in his POV, if that makes sense. But, I have used his thoughts throughout the story. :)  
BigTuna- Thanks! You said the same thing Small Tuna did, and it cracked me up :) Haha. Hope you like this one too.  
Benjamin- Thanks!!! You expected fireworks and sex, right? haha. I live in the unexpected.  
PenguinPatrol- Aww thanks! Who's your friend? I'm curious! Hopefully it'll all work out in a way you like--I think it will!  
Dean- I feel sorry for both of them. sigh hopefully things will get better :)  
Christine- Yes, please keep in mind that I am JAM through and through, I'm just big on character development. I'm trying to move them along in their relationship, while still having them grow and learn separately, so hopefully that excites you. Trust me in the next few chapters, please... There is one you will hate, but it'll be good.  
KT- she will, but she did that too early with Roy, so she's scared. And Dwight has mentioned beet coloring in a real episode, so I do think it's real.  
Lovemesome- Thanks so much! I was so worried about this chapter because it's so NOT what people wanted to read. I'm glad you enjoyed it and thought it worked well!  
Smiling- Yeah, but doesnt every girl want a guy who is willing to WAIT for her?  
Ruli- AWW! Yes. Here, I'll give you a hint. I will never, ever post on a Tuesday or a Wednesday. Haha. So, leave those days off your checking schedule. I love Return To Me. It's soooooo great!!! Thanks for your detailed reviews, btw.  
Angie- Wow! thanks!!!! such a great compliment! They kiss. Eventually they'll kiss more.  
Dancer- Wow! Thanks! It's such a compliment to me that you can understand why they're not from what I've written about Pam. I think it's more real, and I'm so glad you agree!  
Kerber- Jim and Pam... the classic tale of NEVER having 'it' together!  
Eagle- I think you said pretty much the same thing with 20 Questions!!  
Michelle- Thanks!  
absolution- Yeah, father/daughter stuff makes me cry too.  
Squint- you wont have to wait much longer!  
Kitty- Well, you got two of them! Thanks for all the suggestions :)  
Elly- Thats not a review, retard.  
Young for eternity- Yeah, He is about to explode too. but I promise, it's been Pam healing up to this point, and pretty soon, it's gonna shift drastically.  
Jrgrrl- I want them together too! Its like 'cmon already Pam!', but honestly, the characters tell me waht they want.  
Anon- I don't know, ask Pam!  
Bravery- Bold New Beesly! YES!  
Pirate- I'm anxious to see where it goes too! Thanks so much! And yeah, Office is hard to write for, but its the only fanfic I can. I feel like I understand Pam, so it makes it easier.  
Laura- Wow! Thanks! I really appreciate your review! And I think Jim is very childish, yet they need to be serious sometimes, and sometimes, they are.  
Amanda- Jim the 6 foot 3 kid, yes yes yes. And yeah, I'm ready for them to get together too, but they aren't. Not yet.  
Alison- Aww, thanks lovey! I'm glad you dont hate me. that would suck. PS. Had lunch with papa today. It was good. :)  
EH- First of all, you leave FANTASTIC reviews! I've missed you in la chat. Laundry shouldn't be separated, and try sliced bananas. they're so much better. The bedroom thing comes from my family! It's a Gracie original. HAH. And to the last part of your comment: THATS WHAT SHE SAID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

* * *

She was sitting on her couch, thumbing through the "clues" Jim had given her toward their date that week. He'd said they'd gotten easier and easier as the days went by, and yet she still couldn't figure out a single one. She sorted the evidence into piles based on the day he'd given her the clue. In one pile, a stuffed Simba from The Lion King rested, holding a small pink post it note in his hand that said, _Here's hint 1. Be ready by 10 Saturday. –Jim_. She shook her head. She knew who Simba was and what he represented, but mixed in with the other clues, she was completely lost.

In Tuesday's pile was a note on Dunder Mifflin stationary that read _Pam, maybe it's not fair to just spring everything on you. So, I'm giving you hints. Each day you'll get a clue (and they'll get easier). Hopefully you'll figure it out before I pick you up Saturday morning at 10. –Jim. _Lying next to it was an old worn out pizza menu from a place called Momo's. There were pizza slices all over the menu, and it's advertising slogan was "slices as big as your head." Jim had mentioned the place once—not by name, but by slogan. The first time they'd gone to Cuginos he'd complained their extra large slices were too small because his head was still bigger than them. She couldn't figure out how that had anything to do with a date, let alone a lion.

She checked her watch, quickly noting it was already 9:45. _Jim will be here any minute to whisk me off to god knows where if I don't crack this code._ She picked up the third pile, a small pile with only a very small, wallet-sized picture. She'd recognized it instantly as a picture she'd seen in his yearbook during a party he'd hosted a few months earlier. She'd always thought it was funny—he had a goofy grin and even goofier hair. On the back, in what she presumed to be his mother's handwriting, were the words "Jim, Junior Year, 17." She grinned, imagining 17 year old Jim feeding Momo's pizza to lions…

She sighed, shaking her head lightly. _Pam, you'll never figure this out._ The next to last item was a bag of Snyders Pretzels. She knew the pretzels were made in Pennsylvania somewhere—she'd learned about it in 8th grade when Kathy Santioni's parents had bought part of the company and the whole family had moved there to join the pretzel industry. She didn't know if Snyders was a town name or a person's name, and she had no idea what pretzels had to do with Simba, huge slices of pizza and Jim's yearbook picture, but she was beginning to get the feeling this date wouldn't be like any of the others.

The last item on the floor was a small, green "Schuylkill Elementary School Olympics" t-shirt, with images of stick figures running, hurdling, and doing various other athletic tasks with the goal of winning the competition. She wasn't sure what the Olympics of Schuylkill Elementary School were, but the stick figures sure made it look like fun. The back of the shirt had a lot of random signatures from elementary school kids, and Pam found it funny to read what they'd written to their classmate _Jimmy_. It was then that she noticed Jim's scrawling on the back of the t-shirt. She squinted when she realized he'd written a short note to her on it. _Pam, figured it out yet? Just be patient. –Jim_. She rolled her eyes, sighing as she tried to figure out what a lion, an old t-shirt, a ratty photo, pretzels and a pizza menu had to do with her date that night. Somehow, the clues hadn't placed an abnormally large desire to go on a date with Jim inside her.

Although she wouldn't admit she'd been looking forward to the knock on her door all week. However, when the knock did come, she didn't have to admit it. She opened the door within seconds, still holding the stuffed lion and t-shirt in her right hand, a huge smile on her face. She was greeted by his, "well, somebody must be having a good morning!" He could see right through her.

* * *

The curtains of her apartment were half-drawn when he made his way up the steps quietly. His mind was racing with thoughts. _Will she like this date? Is it too soon? Is this even really a date? Yeah right, what would we do instead? We can't do anything else… I already gave her clues. What should I introduce her as?_ He peeked through the half-open curtain to see her sitting on the couch, dark jeans, a pair of green ballet flats, and a pretty blue and white shirt he'd seen her wear once years ago, but he knew she hadn't worn it in forever. He smiled, watching the expression on her face. She was chewing on the end of a pen—a bad habit she'd had ever since he'd known her—her face was contorted in her normal _I'm confused, wait, no, I'm concentrating_ expression, and she was tapping her right foot against the coffee table. He could see her sigh as she looked at all of the clues, and then she picked up one of the letters, a slight smile tugging at her face. He grinned and knocked on the door three times, disrupting her concentration.

She opened it almost immediately—or as immediately as she could have when he considered how long it would take her to run from her spot on the couch to the door. He grinned _she's not trying to play it cool today…_ She was smiling ear to ear, the stuffed lion he'd given her and his elementary school shirt in her right hand. "Well, somebody must be having a good morning!" he chipped.

She smiled. "Where are we going?"

"What? You mean you didn't figure it out, Beesly?" He asked, a look of shock on his face, even though he knew she hadn't. She smiled, shaking her head in a way that reminded him of a little girl when she was upset. He smiled, "you should have asked for Stanley's help. All of those crossword puzzles have to come in handy somehow."

She laughed, "he doesn't know we're dating."

"Dating?" Jim asked.

She blushed. "Well, what else do you call it?" He smiled, and she continued. "We've been going on dates for months and we're already on S so we've had--" she stopped to count on her fingers, "—19 dates. I would say we're dating."

"Dating, but not together," he said, and she nodded.

"Is that okay?"

"I'll take what I can get," he smiled. "Do you need help figuring out the clues?"

She grinned, pulling him inside and nodding lightly. He laughed, sitting down at her couch where they were already sprawled out on the table. "Do some early morning studying?" he teased.

She grinned, sitting next to him on the couch—farther away that he would have liked, but he thought maybe a smidgen closer than she normally did. _Stop reading things into her. She's already told you point blank what she wants._ "So, we have stuffed Simba," he said, gesturing at her arm, "which by the way, has more to do with the lion than the Simba." She nodded. "An old elementary school t-shirt, a restaurant menu, an old yearbook photo, and a bag of pretzels."

"Unopened," she said, trying to help.

"Yes," he replied, laughing. "Okay, first things first… When are yearbook photos taken?"

"School," she replied, rolling her eyes. He pointed at the t-shirt.

"But this isn't an elementary school picture," she replied, confused.

"I know, but it's still a school picture," he replied, and she sighed. "Hand me the restaurant menu." She did so, and he pointed down at the franchise information at the bottom. "Read that."

"Momo's Pizza, locally operated and owned, Snyders, Pennsylvania." She looked over at the bag of pretzels, grinning.

"Why are we going to Snyders? Where is Snyders?"

"It's about an hour and fifteen minutes away. Closer if _you_ drive," he said, winking at her. She smiled. He picked up the yearbook photo, "it's where this photo was taken."

"Oh!" she said, snapping her fingers. "You grew up there."

"I did."

"So that explains four clues. What's the deal with Simba?" she asked, smiling, her head tilted to the side.

Jim shrugged. "Middle school mascot." Pam laughed, slugging him in the head with her Simba. He laughed. "Oww."

She grinned, petting Simba's mane. "Good job, George. Way to get him."

"You just named your lion George," he said, staring at her. She gave him a look, challenging his comment with an arched eyebrow and a deathly stare. "George was the monkey's name. You know? Curious George?"

"I don't care," she smiled and he laughed.

"Come on, we've got to get going."

She got up off the couch, grabbing George's paw. "Come on George," she said, and he rolled his eyes. "Do you need to go to the bathroom before we get on the road?"

"No," Jim replied, and she looked up at him like he was crazy. _Damn, she was talking to the lion…_ He saw her squat down out of the corner of his eye.

"George, I really think you should try before we get on the road. We don't want to have to stop." He waited as she listened to George's response. "Okay, but we're going to be very upset if we have to stop." He waited again. "George…" she was scolding him. _Oh brother._ "George, we're not pulling off the road… What? No, George, we're not there yet." She sighed in exasperation. He turned around, staring the little lion in the eyes.

"George, do not talk back to your mother. I don't want to hear another peep out of you for the rest of the trip, do you understand me? Now come on." She looked up at him, wide-eyed. He opened the door for her and George to leave, and Pam took George's paw and walked out the door and down to the car. When she got there, she stopped in her tracks.

"Jim? Where's George's car seat?"

"What?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes.

"George's car seat. He can't go on a trip without his car seat."

"He can sit in your lap," Jim replied, rolling his eyes and already getting in the car.

"Jim, he can't sit in my lap. He's six years old!" Pam cried. "Do I look bald? Do I flash the general public?"

"No, Britney, you don't," he replied and she sighed. "If he's six years old, he doesn't even need a car seat. You can just sit him in the backseat with a seatbelt on." She nodded, belting George in. "And can we please cut the charade for a little bit?"

She laughed. "Mmhmm," she said. "Do you have any new music?" she asked.

"Yeah, actually. I bought an iTrip this week, so, have fun," he said, pointing at his iPod.

"How does it work?" she asked, pressing buttons on the iPod.

"Um, you press the play button," he said.

"Not that," she said, in her classic _you're a retard_ voice. "I mean the iTrip."

"Oh," he said, turning the knob on the radio as Ani Defranco filled the car. He gave her a glaring look.

"Jim, it's okay. I'll still love you. Even if you are gay," she said softly, touching his hand. "You can tell me anything."

"Shut up," he laughed. "I only put her on there because of you. Change it."

"Tell me how it works," she replied, changing the music to the soundtrack they'd created a few weeks earlier.

"Oh, sorry," he replied. "You set the iTrip to a radio frequency, and you set your car radio to the same one and it'll pick up your iPod through the waves."

"Oh," she nodded. "That sounds cool." She thought for a moment, looking out the window as he drove down the interstate towards Snyder. "Jim, do you have a breakfast routine?" she asked.

"A breakfast routine," he repeated, no expression on his face.

"Yeah, like do you do the same thing for breakfast every day?"

"Yeah, I eat it," he responded, giving her the crazy look. She smiled lightly. "I mean, I have cereal for breakfast."

"What kind of milk?" she asked, and he raised his eyebrows. "2? Whole? Skim?"

"Chocolate."

She slapped his arm, "smartass." He laughed. "Okay, well, I have a breakfast routine."

"You stretch first… and then what?"

She smiled. "Every morning I have an everything bagel with cream cheese."

"Interesting."

"I'm pretty militant about it," she said, smiling. "I have to have every single part of the bagel on it."

"What?"

"You know how the everything bagel has like, little pieces of stuff all over it and sometime they fall off?" she asked, and he nodded. "Well, I make sure every piece falls on the plate, and then I fold the plate in half and pour what fell off on my next bite. And I do it over and over again until the bagel is gone."

"You're kidding me."

"No, I'm a bagel fanatic. I get seriously wigged out if I don't get my bagel."

"Wigged out? I have never heard you say that."

"I don't know where it came from…" He laughed at her. _Of course you don't._ "I think I heard it from a backstreet boy or something."

"When you ran into Lance at the store?"

"Lance?" she laughed. "He was in N'Sync, retard."

"Sorry, I'm not up on my boy bands," Jim replied. _Really? I could have sworn he was Backstreet Boys._

"Oh, I know you like some New Kids on The Block," she said, laughing. He rolled his eyes, pulling into the driveway of an old salmon colored house. "Where are we?" she asked.

"My house," he replied, smiling.

"Is grandma here?" He laughed, shaking his head lightly. _God, I hope nothing ever happens… I couldn't take a grandma away from her…_ "Who is here?"

"My parents are… Alan might be. He still lives here," Jim replied. Pam's eyes went wide.

"Jim, does he still think we're…" Jim turned to her, his eyes wide.

"Oh god, where's a basketball?" he said, looking around. "We have to find something to put under your shirt…"

"Shut up," she laughed, hitting him upside the head. "So he still thinks I'm pregnant." Jim nodded silently, biting his lip. "Well, he'll find out sooner or later."

"Yeah, you'll just have the longest pregnancy in history," Jim laughed. She rolled her eyes, climbing out of the car. "Hey, you're not going to wait for me?"

"You're a slow poke, I want to go give your mom a hug!" Pam said, walking toward the door. He rolled his eyes, laughing lightly as she picked up her pace. The door swung open and Jim could see his mother emerging.

"Pam! So good to see you!" She exclaimed, her arms outstretched as Pam walked into them. They hugged for what seemed like an abnormal amount of time, his mother bombarding Pam with compliments. "You look so good. I love your hair like that; did you curl it? It's beautiful. Why did it take you so long to come see me? Oh! I'm so glad to see you!" she said, squeezing Pam once more.

Pam laughed. "I would have come and seen you earlier, but you can blame it on that son of yours. He won't let me get away for a weekend."

"What son? I don't have a son," she replied, pulling Pam into the house. Jim chuckled as he got out of the car, hearing the faint sounds of conversation from inside the house. His mother was a lot like Pam, except she was extraverted. He could hear her telling Pam how beautiful she looked, asking what she'd been up to. Jim had never felt so completely ignored by his own mother.

He sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking up at the sky. _Great. Not only am I miserably in love with her, but my entire family is too. God I hope she sticks around._ He stepped forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets and walked into the house, heading into the living room, following the trail of laughter. He leaned on the frame of the door, smiling as he saw Pam and his mother sitting side by side on the couch, holding hands and laughing hysterically. Pam was doubled over, clutching her stomach with her free hand, and his mother was watching her laugh, laughing herself. Jim smiled, "you two enjoying yourself?"

His mother smiled, "Oh! Hi Jim," she said, and he rolled his eyes, laughing. "It's good to see you."

"Good to see you too, mom," he said, heading over to the couch and giving her the awkward sit-stand hug because Pam was still laughing. He patted Pam's head lightly, winking at her, before sitting in a chair across from the couch. "You two sure look cozy."

"Oh shush," his mother said, giving him the evil eye. "I'm just catching up with Pam. It's been forever since I've seen her." Jim's eyes went wide. _Forever since you've seen HER? It's been the same amount of time since you've seen me, Mom! And I'm your son_.

"I've missed you too," Pam smiled, leaning her head against his mom's shoulder. "I'm not sure what we have time for today, but if we have down time, I'm sure Jim would let us catch up…" She narrowed her eyes at him in an effort to say _Won't you, buddy?_.

"You'll have time to catch up, I promise," he replied, sighing. "But we do need to get going, it's almost 11:30."

"Oh, stay for lunch!" Mom exclaimed, and Pam looked at him expectedly.

"We can't. We have plans," he replied. "But I promise, you'll have plenty of time with us." Pam sighed, getting up from the couch and giving his mother a hug.

"Oh, well, it was good seeing you while you were here," she hugged Pam back. "Please make him bring you back, I couldn't bear it otherwise."

Pam smiled, "of course Mom." _Mom_? _We're not even together and she's calling my mother mom!_

Mom kissed Pam's forehead, "you have fun, sweetie." _Sweetie? That's what she calls my sister._

Pam smiled, and Jim gave his mother a quick hug, getting none of the affirmation Pam had been showered with earlier. He led her out to the car and she climbed in, checking on George in the backseat. "You and my mom seem to have gotten close."

"Yeah, we talk pretty often. I love your mom," she said, smiling as she turned to him. He smiled back.

"She's a loveable character," he replied, and she nodded. "Wait, how often do you talk to her?"

Pam blushed lightly. "We have a Sunday afternoon date. We talk for an hour or so…"

"You talk to my mom for an hour every Sunday?" he asked, mind reeling. _Gee, do you have tea and crumpets too?_

"Does it upset you?" Pam asked, turning in her seat to look at him.

"No, of course not," Jim reassured her, patting her knee. "I just had no idea you two were so in love with each other."

Pam laughed. "Well, we're not running away together, if that's what you mean."

He smiled. "I just meant you two seem like really good friends. I'm glad to see it; I just don't want either of you to get hurt."

"What do you mean?" she asked, a look of surprise on her face as he pulled into the parking lot.

Jim was flustered. _Great, how do I put this?_ "My mom adores you, Pam. She's heard about you for years upon years upon years, and she's having weekly phone calls with you.. and I just don't want anything to happen between us that causes you or her to be more hurt than you have to."

She thought for a minute. "You mean, you don't want her and I to get close, and then for us to have a falling out and for it to affect me and her?" Jim nodded. Pam looked a little angry, but she kept her voice cool and collected. "Jim, do you really think we're going to fall out? Honestly. When you look at our relationship, do you see one that's eventually going to end?"

He thought for a moment, biting his lip. "I guess not. There's just so much uncertainty with us."

"Uncertainty?" she asked.

"About the future."

"Why can't you just live right now, Jim? You've been looking forward to the day we could be together since the day I met you. What would make you feel better? What would make you more sure?"

"I don't know," he flustered. _A ring on your left hand?_

"Look at me," she said, and he turned to look at her. She was looking into his eyes, and he could feel it burning inside. He wanted to look away, to hide his vulnerability, but his head was screaming _It's Pam!_ and his eyes couldn't bear to break away from her eyes. "It's not a matter of if, Jim. It's a matter of when."

"How long am I going to have to wait?" he asked, and she sighed, breaking his gaze.

"Do you have a time limit on how long you can?" she asked, and he couldn't tell if she was being completely vulnerable or if she was angry with him.

"I don't know," he replied. He didn't. He loved her. He would always love her, but he'd been told too many times to count that he couldn't just watch his life fade away. He had to do something about it. He had to move on from things. And he wanted more from life than to just be single and alone. He wanted kids. He wanted to be married. He wanted to share every detail with someone. Sure, he wanted that someone to be Pam. She's the one that had put that desire inside of him, but yet, he couldn't just watch after her and not go for his own. He would regret it later on.

She nodded softly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I realize it's not fair for me to ask you to wait until I'm ready, so if you want to give up on me, you can," she said, and her words pierced him lightly. _I don't want to give up on you, Pam! I just want to make sure that at the end of it all, I get you! Don't you get that? I just want you, that's all. And it's killing me, all of this wanting you and not getting you._ "Now, let's go inside. I hear they have pizza as big as your head here."

He climbed out of the car, helping her out as well. "What kind of pizza are you gonna get?"

"I don't know… What do you like here?"

"I'll tell you in a minute." He replied, and she looked at him strangely before settling into a booth. She got a diet coke, and he ordered a grape soda before she pulled out the menu and looked it over. He just studied her as she did so, and she laughed.

"What?"

"What are you going to get?" he asked, smiling.

"I think Pepperoni, Pineapple and feta… What are you going to get?"

"The usual," he replied, and she rolled her eyes.

"What's the usual?" she asked, and he shrugged. She sighed, exasperated as the waitress approached them, taking her order swiftly before turning to Jim.

"Jim! So good to see you!" she exclaimed, patting his shoulder. He smiled up at her.

"Hey Nance, how are you?" he asked her, and she smiled.

"I'm doing well. Bob and I just had our third wedding anniversary," she replied, and Jim smiled, nodding.

"Congratulations!" he said, and she smiled, nodding. "Oh, this is Pam," he said, gesturing to Pam. "This is Nancy. She's been my main waitress for what, like 15 years?" he laughed. Pam smiled, shaking Nancy's hand.

"13," she replied, nodding. "You want your usual, Jimmy?"

"What else would I get?" he asked, and she nodded, winked, and walked away. He turned back to Pam. "She's been here forever." Pam smiled. "Okay, so you wanna hear the story of this place?"

Pam smiled. "Yeah, I wanna know all about your usual."

He laughed. "So, my friend Matt had this huge crush on Nancy when we were in high school. I mean, she's like 8 years older than us, but he was pretty much in love with her." Pam grinned, taking a peek over at Nancy, then back at Jim. "So, Matt made me and our friends Alyssa, Drew and Kayla come here every single day after school. I think we got out of school at like 3:35 or something. So we'd come here and get a pizza and talk until it was too late to pretend like we were in study hall."

Pam laughed. "Okay, so you told your parents you were in study hall, when really you came to the pizza place so your friend could spy on his crush?"

"Mmhmm. And every time, without fail, he confessed his love to Nancy. Alyssa and Kayla always laughed and hit him. Nancy was mortified at first, but then she started to just play along." Pam laughed, and he continued. "I think she finally gave him a date the week before we all left for college. They didn't hit it off, obviously."

Pam smiled. "Poor Matt."

"Yeah, it was pretty comical, actually," Jim laughed. "But I spent every day in here for like, three years. Nancy heard all of our weird stories and stuff." Pam laughed as Nancy came back to grab Pam's drink and refill it. When she came back, Pam grabbed her arm lightly.

"Nancy, do you have a break coming up?" she asked.

"In about three minutes," she replied.

"Will you join us? I would love to hear some insight into teenage Jim." She grinned, and Nancy nodded, winking lightly. Jim looked at her in horror. "What?" She smiled. "I need to make sure I get the nitty gritty."

"Oh god," Jim said, putting his head in his hands as Nancy walked over and squeezed in next to Jim. Pam clapped her hands, unable to contain her grin. "She's going to grill you, Nancy…. You don't have to answer anything…" Jim tried to convince her.

"Oh, no, it's okay," Nancy said, smiling at Pam. "Ask away."

"Alright, tell me about these characters Jim hang out with… And his worst haircut! Oh, and the biggest trouble ever got in! And anything else incriminating and embarrassing!"

Nancy laughed, "Wow, you're about to lose your girl here, Jim." Pam grinned, smiling sickeningly sweet at Jim before turning back to Nancy. Jim laughed, covering his face with his hands and leaned back against the seat. "Jim wasn't the most popular kid in school." Pam gave him a pouty face, and he rolled his eyes, laughing. "He had this crew he hung out with. There was this one girl, Alyssa, and Jim was completely smitten with her." Jim groaned, and Nancy shook her finger at him, "You can't still be denying it. Jesus, Jim, it's been over ten years."

"I'm not denying it," he replied.

"Good, no need to deny love… or whatever that was," Nancy said, and Pam giggled. "She was the smart one. She knew the answer to everything, but she wasn't a nerd or anything. She was just down-to-earth and adorable. You know. And then there were, what were the two boys names?"

"Matt and Drew," Jim replied.

"Oh, right. Matt had a huge thing for older women. Like myself. He was also the theater geek of the crew. He was always rushing back to school after a slice of pizza to go be in some random high school play. Jim used to make fun of him all the time."

"Jim!" Pam protested.

"Pam, he played Adelaide in Guys and Dolls! There were 20 guys in that play, and he got the girl part!" Pam giggled despite herself, clasping her hand over her mouth.

"Then there was Drew… Wasn't he in Student Government or something? He was always doing something with that school."

"Yeah, he was a freak," Jim laughed. "He even spent the night at the school one day. Tried to convince our history class to have a lock-in." Pam made a face, and Jim laughed. "I know, I know."

"And then there was that gorgeous girl," Nancy snapped her fingers at Jim. "God, what was her name? Kaitlin or Kaley or something."

"Kayla," Jim replied. "She was a blonde cheerleader. Very perky."

"Wow, this sounds like quite the crew," Pam muttered. "The SGA kid, the cheerleader, the braniac, and the perverted computer dweeb… Which stereotype did you bring?"

Nancy laughed. "Class clown."

"Figures," Pam nodded, winking at Jim. "So, they came here every day and just ate pizza? That seems like it could get boring after awhile."

"Well, they were always gossiping. Those three boys gossiped more than any boys I've ever met in my life. And one of them was on the newspaper, so he was always interviewing everyone about everything. He even tried to get me as a source." Jim had sunk lower into his seat. "There was one article he had to do on fashion trends or something. This girl in his journalism class got sick or something, so he got pinned with it. God, Jim, which one of the guys was that?"

"I don't know," Jim said, sinking lower into his seat.

Pam smiled, biting her lip. "Jim, didn't you tell me you were on the paper in high school?" she asked, and Nancy's eyes went wide.

"It was you! I remember because you asked me all about the great fashions of the time." Pam snorted, then covered her mouth with her hands.

"Jim, what were some of the top fashions in 99?" Pam asked, grinning. Jim shook his head, biting his lip, his face turning red. "Oh, come on, Jim. Live a little." He sighed. "What were they?"

"Well, Keds for one," he said, and Pam looked at him in shock, her mouth dropping open. He laughed. "Just kidding. Kind of."

"I hate you," she grinned.

"Do you remember power beads?" he asked, laughing. "Where each one meant something." She grinned, giggling. "Tamagotchis. Timberlands. Adidas."

"I didn't wear any of that stuff," Pam said, grinning.

"Nobody who was really knowledgeable about fashion did, either," Nancy said, laughing. "Jim interviewed me for the story, and I gave him a horrible lead… What was it? I can't remember."

"Something about how furry white jeans were in on college campuses," Jim replied bitterly. "My advisor nearly kicked me off the paper for that." Pam busted out laughing just as the manager brought their pizza to the table. Nancy hopped up, declaring her break nearly over, before she leaned over and whispered in Pam's ear.

"Make sure you have him show you his sophomore yearbook picture. He had a bit of a mullet going on." Pam giggled and nodded. She ate her pizza quickly, savoring each bite

"Gosh, does this slice never end?" she said, after she'd eaten half of the piece and was already starting to get full. Jim laughed, shaking his head lightly. She smiled, cutting the slice into two in order to actually fit it into her mouth. "She seems nice."

"She always has been," Jim laughed. "She made my crew sound a lot stranger than we were… Although, the way she described it does make me wonder how the five of us were even friends. We were all so different."

"Yeah, how did you all get to be friends? That's a lot of crowd breeching," she said, her mouth full. He didn't mind, and she didn't notice.

"I think it started with Kayla and Drew being friends. Then I was friends with Drew from baseball camp that summer or something… and Alyssa and I grew up together, as you know…I don't remember how Matt got involved. I know that Alyssa did Kayla's homework for a while… Matt must have met someone through theater, but I can't think of who it was." Jim stopped, deep in thought for a moment, and she studied him, recognizing the way his face scrunched when he was thinking. "Oh! I had to write a story on theater for the paper, so I interviewed him. We just spent the entire hour talking instead of me actually interviewing him. So, that's how that started."

"Ah," Pam said, smiling. "So, were you guys like the Dawson's Creek crew? Always hanging out together and stuff?"

"Yeah, actually," Jim laughed. "Just without the romantic crap. I mean, every now and then we'd have a boyfriend or girlfriend join us for pizza, but they never lasted long. We all hung out in the summer a lot. The summer before senior year, Drew, Alyssa and I all got a job at one of the grocery stores in town. I was always the bag boy and Alyssa was always the cashier, and Drew normally stocked things in the store. Matt and Kayla would come in randomly and just tease us mercilessly. Kayla would move things around for Drew to find, and then Matt would ask for burlap bags instead of plastic or paper." The two of them laughed as Pam pushed her plate away.

"It sounds like you really enjoyed high school," she said softly, and he nodded. "I enjoyed mine too, I mean, as much as anyone I suppose." He nodded as Nancy walked back with the bill.

"What are you two doing today? It's been so long since you've been back, Jim. Do you even know where things are anymore?" Jim rolled his eyes at her, laughing as he handed her his card.

"Of course I do. And I can't tell you what we're doing—she doesn't even know that much," he said, gesturing towards Pam.

"It's true," Pam chimed in. "He doesn't tell me anything." Nancy clicked her teeth, shaking her head as she disappeared to clear his check. She handed him the receipt and his card back, and Pam watched him silently as he scribbled on the receipt, adding the tax to the bill. He then pulled out a few dollars from his back pocket and laid it on the table. She eyed him suspiciously.

"What?" he asked, standing up to leave.

"Nothing," she said, and he laughed.

"If you put tips on a credit card, they have to include them in taxes," he said, and she nodded slowly, walking toward the door.

"Okay," she said, and then turned and waved at Nancy. Nancy smiled, waving back.

"You two come back, you hear?" she said, and Jim nodded, smiling as he led Pam out to the car, ready for the next phase of their date.

* * *

They'd parked on a side street, getting out and walking a short distance, hands intertwined, laughing. He'd just finished telling her the story of the worst Halloween costume in the history of Jim Halpert, and she hadn't had much of a response other than the deep laughter he loved so much. He didn't mind it when she laughed at him. Normally, if it was any other girl, he might have, but because it was Pam, somehow, it didn't phase him. After all, when she laughed at him, he still got to hear her laugh.

They'd reached the corner of his high school when she stopped in her tracks, reading the sign to herself. She smiled lightly. "I think I've heard of this place," she said softly, and he smiled. "What are we doing here?"

"I'm going to give you a tour," Jim said, and she smiled. "And in the meantime, I'll try and give you more of a glimpse into awkward, nerdy, delinquent Jim." She grinned as he opened the gate to the high school. "There's some sort of competition going on today, I think," he said, gesturing toward all the cars.

She peered back over at the marquee out front, reading off it, "Regional Latin forum, October 3. That's today."

Jim chuckled. "We used to go to the Latin forum all the time. We'd sit in the back row and watch the competition and shout out things that sounded like they were Latin but really weren't." She punched his arm playfully.

"Like what?"

He grinned, thinking back to a Saturday afternoon where he, Alyssa, Drew and Matt had sat in the back of the auditorium, drinking diet coke and throwing M&Ms at some of the contestants from other schools. Kayla had been out of town at a cheer competition. The four of them had driven down to see the final day of it that night, but that afternoon had been all about wasting time, and the Latin forum seemed as good a place as any.

"We'd mostly yell stuff out about sex… blowus jobus and that kind of thing," he laughed, and she grinned. "We actually got kicked out one year. It was our junior year and Alyssa, Drew, Matt and I were all traveling to Philly that night to go see Kayla in some cheerleading competition she had," Pam smiled, her heart softening at the thought of Jim going to see a cheerleading competition. Her mind was reeling with comebacks. "Shush," he said, before continuing, "and we needed an activity for the next few hours, so we just decided to come here. After enough obscene things were said and enough M&Ms hit the back of rival teams heads, we were pretty much kicked out of the auditorium. It was great."

Pam laughed. "Can we go see? You know, when the tour is over?"

"Are you extraverted enough to yell out obscenities?"

"I can be," she smiled, and he grinned, taking her hand and opening the door to the school. He led her up the stairs in the back corner of the school, up to the math and science wings of the school.

"My school had the brilliant idea of putting all of the math and science classes on the second floor, all of the English and history classes on the first floor, and everything else in portables and extra buildings around campus," Jim said. "Except there are way more English and history classes than science and math, so they also put culinary up at the top," he opened the door, a whiff of something not so pleasant reaching Pam's nose and she gagged lightly, "which unfortunately, creates a lasting, not pleasant odor."

She coughed once more and he smiled, leading her through the door and up to the third floor. It was pretty deserted, and he was glad—he didn't really feel in the mood for running into old teachers, other than to show off Pam. After all, he was the same Jim, but look at the prize that was accompanying him. He stopped at a blue and grey locker—the third one in the column, right by a dark brown door. "This was my locker senior year. I had 'Killer Miller' for homeroom. Whenever anyone left homeroom, the door always hit me and I always fell over. There was this really hot girl that had the locker next to me, and she used to get so irritated."

Pam smiled, peering at his locker. "Do you remember the combination?"

"It was 69-6-69 when I set it," Jim grinned. "I doubt it still is. You can either reset it or just take what the old person had. I'm sure some bible thumping Angela type had it after me and wanted a new one." He tried the dial, pulling on the lock. It didn't open. "See?"

Pam grinned, "Who were you in high school? Kevin?"

Jim laughed. "Niiiiiiice."

"Shut up," Pam said, swatting him again as he stood up, pointing out various rooms. He pointed at one covered in periodic table posters and the famous Carol's safety goggles poster.

"I blew up a frog in that room," he pointed.

"What?" she asked.

"A fake frog. I think it was made out of plastic. We were supposed to make some sort of substance that would allow it to shrink in size so we could get it out of this bottle we had put the chemical in… But I put in too much of some random substance, so my frog blew up. It hit the ceiling and the bottle broke into a thousand pieces."

Pam covered her mouth with her hand. Jim continued, "I had to get stitches in my face. One of the shards of glass somehow managed to go under my mask and nicked my chin. Do you see that scar right there?" he asked, pointing at the faint scar she'd noticed hundreds of times but never had the nerve to ask about. She nodded. He returned her nod, shrugging. "I failed Chemistry."

"I never took it," she replied. "We had about a thousand sciences you could take. So I took biology, anatomy, and we had a psychology class that counted as a science. You just studied the brain, all the time."

"How does someone without a brain study the brain?" he asked, teasing her. She stuck her tongue out, grinning. "Oh, come here," he said, pulling her into a small nook at the corner of the hallway. He pulled her into the men's bathroom, and she tried to protest, but he was still pulling her and eventually, she just went quiet. He pointed up at the ceiling, "Do you see that?"

"See what?"

"The writing, in chalk." She squinted, nodding.

"I can't read it."

"It says _Kayzer, Lisp, Dewdrop, Matt The Awesome and Hal were here._"

"So?"

"That was us. We snuck in here the summer after graduation and took chalk to the ceiling. Kayzer is Kayla, Lisp was Alyssa, Dewdrop was Drew, and I'm sure you can figure out the others."

"Man you guys really were like the five musketeers or something," Pam smiled. He smiled as they reached the stairs at the end of the hall, leading her down the stairs. They came to a window, and he pointed out of it at a small tree on the grass. "That used to be the smoking tree, back when it was legal to smoke on campuses and stuff. We all ate lunch under there every day." She smiled, trying to imagine Jim and his friends eating under the tree. "Kayla would sometimes practice her cheers; Matt would rehearse his lines. Alyssa studied a lot. Drew and I just did whatever we felt like, which often included hitting on various senior girls, of course." Pam chuckled. They walked on, and Pam noticed a trophy case in the lobby of the school, along with a huge lion statue. She smiled, racing over to it.

The school was apparently about seventy years old, and there was a glass case in the lobby for each decade, with random trophies and newspaper clippings, photographs and brochures. She found the one from the 90s, smiling as she gazed inside of it. She noticed a copy of the newspaper from 92, noting how old it was. "What year did you graduate again?" she asked.

"1998," he replied. She squatted down, noticing the display was arranged on shelves for every two years, and she finally found the one for 97-98, and she grinned, pointing at a picture. "Oh, I didn't know that was in there," he said, laughing.

She looked up at him expectedly.

"Okay," he said, pointing at the picture of him in his basketball gear. "We went to the Pennsylvania State Championships senior year, and Drew organized a spirit bus to come and watch. We ended up losing by about 10 baskets, but it wasn't that bad. I had a great game. So, this is us after the game. The one next to me is Alyssa, but you've seen her before. I think she was actually studying during the game. She was kind of like that," he laughed. "Next to her is Drew. He's all glittered and painted up. He was one of our blue boys. He got painted and glittered before every game. I was one during the football season, except I was a white boy."

"Oh, how things change," Pam smiled, and he laughed.

"Anyway, Drew would run up and down the stands shouting out cheers. And he always made a lot for me. I can't remember any of them, but they were good. So, that's Drew, and next to him is Kayla, as I'm sure you can tell by the cheerleading outfit. And Matt is next to her, looking as normal as he ever did." He squinted at the photo again, before she pointed at Matt's shirt.

"What does that say?"

"Oh," Jim laughed. "It was from he and Alyssa's math club. It said _Shift Happens_. You know, an old play-on the whole _shit happens_ from Forrest Gump." Pam laughed. "I still have this picture. Kayla's boyfriend at the time, Cory, took it. He played on the team with me. Anyway, she gave us all the picture one Christmas. It's one of my favorite pictures ever."

"It wasn't on your quilt," Pam said, looking at the rest of the display case.

"I only had one copy," Jim replied. "And it's in my apartment hanging up."

She looked back at the photo. "You guys really look close."

"We went through a lot together," he replied, and she paused for a minute, looking up at him. She leaned against the glass frame.

"Like what?" she asked softly, and he nodded. _You should tell her all about your past. After all, you know hers. She deserves to know yours._

"Broken hearts, pregnancy, addictions."

"Go on," Pam said, and Jim went over to sit on a bench in the lobby. She followed him, sitting next to him. "I want to know everything about you, Jim Halpert," she said, and he laughed.

"I was about to tell you," he said. She smiled, lifting her feet up and turning her body so her back was against the railing of the bench, her feet over his lap, and she was facing him. "Okay, so, Matt was in the theater crowd when we found him, which kind of translated into him being into the druggie crowd." Pam's eyes narrowed as she listened, nodding slightly. "Anyway, one day I was supposed to interview Matt for the paper, but he didn't show. So I decided to walk home, and I found him sitting against the side of this old deserted building, smoking. So I sat down next to him and we just talked about life and stuff for like an hour and a half."

Pam nodded again, obvious questions in her eyes. "Anyway, he kept offering me some, and I kept telling him I didn't want any, until finally he got kind of mad at me. It was like he couldn't understand why I didn't want to try it, and I couldn't understand why he wanted me to. So we had a fight and we went our separate ways, but then that night he called me after he sobered up and was telling me about how miserable it was. I don't know why he called me, he just did. And so we met up that night, and I invited him to pizza the next day."

"And just like that it was gone?" Pam asked in disbelief.

"Well, no… I mean, I told Drew and Alyssa and Kayla and we all just kind of decided to help him through it. I mean, it was hard. But he wasn't completely addicted to it. He was addicted to it like you're addicted to chocolate… Like, if it was near him, he wanted it, but he didn't squander money away on it. You know? So, we just had this thing where after school one of us was always with him. And eventually it just got so I guess he didn't want it anymore."

"Wow, that sounds really tough," Pam said softly. "But it must have been amazing, to help him out like that."

"Yeah, it was," Jim said. "I'm glad we did. He really helped out the rest of us a lot too. He's a great guy, some of that was just clouded for awhile while he was on the drugs."

Pam nodded. "Okay, so what else?"

"Hmm," Jim said, pondering. "Kayla thought she was pregnant for like a week. Alyssa had to go with her to the doctor and everything, and the doctor thought she was but then I guess something happened and she wasn't anymore."

"What do you mean?" Pam asked, slowly.

"The doctor said she was pregnant, and then a few days later Kayla came back and said she wasn't. We didn't really ask anymore than that. We were more interested in her than her condition. But it was Cory's. I guess they'd gotten kind of drunk one night and went at it and heat and lots of stretching reduces the effectiveness of a condom, and so… yeah."

"What do you think happened to it?" Pam asked, trying to veer away from the condom talk. Teenage pregnancy had always been particularly interesting to her. She wasn't sure if it was because of the gossip factor, or if it just struck a cord, but for some reason, she loved stories about teenage pregnancy.

"I don't know, really," he said. "I never asked… but I know Kayla well enough to know she would never have done anything to hurt her own child. I don't think it was planned, if that's what you're asking."

"Yeah," Pam muttered, trailing off. "What about you? What did they help you through?"

He smiled, chuckling lightly. "Alyssa, I guess."

"Alyssa," she nodded.

"Yeah, actually, you'll be glad to know that it was Drew that convinced me to break up with Felicia."

"FelMel," Pam corrected. "And you seriously needed Drew to tell you she wasn't right for you? Wow." Jim laughed.

"I was just trying to make Alyssa jealous," he said, softly. "The sex, everything about her was just to make Alyssa jealous."

"Really?" Pam asked.

"Yeah, I have a bad tendency to use girls to make other girls jealous," he said, and she looked up at him in surprise.

"Which girl am I in the scenario?" she asked.

"You're the Alyssa," he said softly. "Katy was the Felicia." He looked up at her, watching her swallow visibly. "I know that's rude and horrible to admit to you, but you asked," he said softly, looking down at her feet.

"No, I understand," she said softly. "And you succeeded." He looked up, surprised. _She was not…_ "I was really jealous of Katy."

"That's kind of funny," Jim replied, smiling. "She was super jealous of you." Pam laughed it off, shaking her head. "No, really, she knew something was up between us. She mentioned it a few times." Pam smiled lightly. Jim changed the subject, "Oh, Alyssa's parents got divorced our senior year. That one was a lot of fun to work through, too."

Pam nodded softly, "that's got to be tough."

"It was really tough on her," Jim replied. "She had a huge problem with dating anyone and trusting people about love and everything. She was just so broken over it. It was horrible."

"Was she an only child?"

"Yeah, she was. And her parents weren't very good about keeping her out of the divorce. She'd come to school every day having heard something new about one of her parents. Vicious, vicious things, too... It was really sad. Seeing her that way made me realize I never want to be divorced."

"I don't think anyone really wants to be divorced, Jim," she replied. He shook his head lightly.

"No, I know… I'm just saying that when I get married, I don't want it to be an option. You know? I mean, what's the point of being married if you can just get divorced? Why not just live together and reap all of the benefits without paying for the fancy wedding."

Pam shivered. "That's what Roy used to say… but not in the same context."

Jim squeezed her hand lightly. "I absolutely want to get married someday, Pam. I'm not saying I don't. I'm just saying it's a big thing, and once you get to the point where you're willing to commit to one person for the rest of your life, you should actually follow through with that." She was silent, nodding slightly. He watched her for a moment.

"I'm going to think about that," she said softly, and he nodded. She smiled. "Can we go throw M&Ms at random people at the Latin forum now?" she asked, and he nodded, taking her hand and pulling her into the auditorium.

* * *

They were sitting on the steps of his elementary school, having already been to both his middle and high school. She'd heard more Jim stories than she'd ever thought she'd hear—from him accidentally reading out _orgasm_ in 7th grade science (instead of _organism_) to the time he'd accidentally brought his sister's gym clothes to school instead of his own. He was pointing at the tire pyramid in the playground in front of them. "That's where I got my first kiss."

"Not uh!" she smiled. "Who was she?" she asked in a sing-song voice. He laughed.

"Her name was Caitlin Cooper. She was in first grade, and I was in kindergarten."

"Ooh, an older woman," Pam teased. "How was the kiss?"

"I've had better," Jim smiled, looking at her.

"Yeah, when?"

"Like a week ago," he said, getting up and walking toward the tire pyramid. She was staring at him, trying to take in what he was saying to her. He turned back toward her, breaking her thought, "come on!" He was already climbing the tire pyramid when she stood up, racing towards it and climbing it as well, laughing.

"We never had one of these," she said, pulling her legs into the empty hole in the tire. He did the same, laughing. "I like it. You can see the world."

"Well, really you can see Snyders, but that's okay. I'll take the world," he said, laughing. She smiled.

"This has been really fun," she said. "Thank you for bringing me here." The wind picked up, and all of a sudden she felt cool, the leaves rustling down from the trees and landing around them. "I love October."

"Me too," he smiled back. "It's always really pretty and cool. The weather is perfect." She smiled, nodding. "Okay, so I have another story for you."

She clapped. "Yay!"

"So, my fourth grade teacher was really into American Girls. Do you remember them?"

"Forever stained in my mind," Pam replied, and Jim laughed.

"Well, we actually put the play on in fourth grade. We did Felicity."

"That's what she said," Pam said, her eyes going wide as they laughed. "She was always my favorite."

"Yeah, I played Ben. The apprentice in her father's shop." Pam giggled, covering her mouth.

"Who was Felicity? I always thought there was something going on between the two of them!"

"Me too," Jim replied, laughing. "Caitlin actually played Felicity. It was a mixed fourth and fifth grade class. She looked a lot like you, but she was a real pest."

"The pretty ones normally are," she replied, smiling.

"Mmhmm," Jim agreed. Pam smiled, looking into the sky, leaning back slightly.

"So this was where you got your first kiss, huh?" she asked, and he nodded. She smiled, leaning towards him and pecking him softly on the lips. He looked at her in surprise, and she shrugged. "Don't think anything of it, I just didn't want _Caitlin Cooper_," she said her name with such disdain Jim thought he could pick up on a little bit of jealousy in it, "to be the only girl that kissed you on the top of the tire pyramid."

He laughed, rolling his eyes. "Well, thanks." They sat at the top of the tire pyramid in silence, both watching the leaves rustle and feeling the wind against their skin. They didn't speak much, they just sat there. The sun was fading slowly, but for a moment, nothing really mattered except sitting on the top of the tire pyramid, watching the wind blow by. The quiet felt good and safe, unlike a lot of other silences they'd lived through. Awkward silences, where you were _supposed_ to say something, you just couldn't think of what to say. This was different. This was comfortable. Pam couldn't remember the last time she sat in a comfortable silence.

Her mind was reeling, thinking back to what Jim had said earlier on the bench about marriage and how it didn't mean anything if you gave up on it. _There's no way Roy and I would have made it. We might have made it a few years, running by idly… But when we had kids and when we got older… Surely one of us would have realized that it wasn't what we wanted. There'd have been regrets… A whole lot of hurt. Our kids would have suffered just like Alyssa did. We would have ended up doing so much damage. _

She shivered lightly, running her hands over her arms, feeling the goose bumps there. _It makes sense, what he said… Assuming that the other person didn't throw you against the wall or cheat on you, or something… I mean, you do have to work at every relationship. Marriage wouldn't be any different, would it? I'm silly to think it would have been._

She bit her lip, watching the wind go by, noticing the tether ball in the middle of the playground. A stray hair bow lying in the dirt. _I guess it's not worth getting married unless you can really commit to working at it for the rest of your life. I mean, the person you marry has to be worth that. Worth working on and with. Roy wasn't. I mean, he was, just not Roy and I. Not our relationship. If it came down to it, neither of us would have chosen to work on it. We would have chosen to run. We were never supposed to be together. I should have seen that. I mean, he saw it. _She closed her eyes, picturing their relationship. The fights, the kisses, dinners and beers. Laughter, pool parties, homecoming games.

_I'm through with entering into things lightly. I did it with Roy, and I'm learning to not do it with Jim now. Because at this point in my life, why should I waste my time with someone that isn't possibly it? I mean, I shouldn't go on the first date with the idea of marrying him in my mind, but if there's something about him that says I couldn't ever possibly want to marry him… Well, why would I date him? What's the point of getting my heart broken?_

"Jim," she said softly, her teeth clattering lightly. He noticed she was cold and pulled her into his arms, wrapping himself around her as much as he could. He was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans, not much more than she was, but still, he protected her the best he could. "I think you're right."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "About what?"

"What you said, about marrying someone. What's the point if you're not willing to stick in it through the bad times?"

"Really?" he asked, looking at her. She nodded against his chest. He smiled. "I'm not saying you should be miserable for your whole life, I'm just saying everyone needs to pick who they marry a tad bit better."

"I agree," she said softly, resting her head on his shoulder. "Jim, do you think Roy and I would have made it? If we'd actually gotten married." She wasn't sure why she'd asked him, but for some reason, she felt she needed to hear his response.

He was silent for a moment. She knew he'd heard her, and she knew he wasn't just ignoring her question. He was going to answer her; he just needed time to formulate a response. "I think," he started slowly, taking a pause. "I think that pretty much any two people can make a relationship work if they're willing to." She nodded, and he continued. "I think if you'd married Roy, and you both wanted it to work…" he stopped, shaking his head, and she could see some pain on his face. "Yeah, as much as I hate to admit it, I think you could have made it. But I don't know how happy you would have been."

"What do you mean?" she asked softly, looking up at him. He looked down at her, biting his lip.

"I think—and don't take this the wrong way," he said softly, and she nodded, genuinely interested in what he had to say. "I think you were kind of relying on him to make you happy, and he was never going to be that guy."

She was silent for a moment, letting his words simmer. "I see what you mean." She looked back at the sky, and he followed her lead, as they watched nothing once again. "But," she piped up, "if your husband can't make you happy, who can?"

"Yourself," he replied. "I think you've got to make you happy before anything else."

"Are you happy, Jim?" she asked. "I mean, are you happy without it being conditional on someone else?"

"I'm not sure," he replied slowly, softly. "I think I'm learning how to be happy on my own. I know I would be happier depending on someone else, but just happy. I don't know."

She smiled. "Now I guess you see why I need to wait a little bit." He looked at her for a moment. "I need to learn how to be happy without relying on you, Halpert."

He nodded. "I get it. I guess it's something we both need to learn." She nodded. "But you'll always make me happy," he said softly.

"I know," she smiled. "That feels so good to hear." He chuckled lightly, and she touched his hand softly. "And you'll always make me happy. But it's like you said, we have to be happy on our own terms. Then we'll just get like, double happy or something."

He laughed. "You're a dork."

"But I'm your favorite dork," she smiled.

"I don't know, Caitlin Cooper…" he trailed off, and she rolled her eyes, smiling. Her stomach growled then, and he laughed, "sounds like my favorite dork is hungry."

"She is," Pam replied, smiling.

"Well, our date's not over, missy," he replied, and she laughed, rolling her eyes. "I told mom we'd make her dinner tonight, so we have to make one more stop before we go home."

"Oh? Where?" Pam asked, grinning. "Hungry Howies?" He laughed.

"Nope, we're going to the grocery store I used to work at. We've got to get materials."

"Materials?" she asked, grinning. "You mean ingredients?"

"Yes," he replied, pulling his legs out from the tire swing. She grinned, dropping down through the middle of the tire and landed on the sand inside the pyramid before crawling out one of the tires. He smiled, watching her. _She looks just like a little kid._ "Do you want to make Spaghetti tonight?"

"It starts with S," she said, grinning. "So, I get to see Halpert's place of employment?"

He laughed. "Yeah, it's very exciting. I mean, it's just a grocery store, but still…" She smiled, and he took her hand, leading her back to the car. They drove to the grocery store quickly, it didn't even take five minutes, but the windows were down, her feet were on the dashboard, and they were both singing. She felt like a teenager, completely infinite and ready to enjoy the world. Nothing was going to hold her back. There were no broken dreams and no broken hearts. Nothing. Just pure, innocent, carefree Pam. Allie's Pam.

They arrived at the grocery store, and she took a sip of the diet coke in his cup holder before getting out of the car. "Come on, turtle," he smiled at her, and she shut the door behind her, skipping over to him. "I might have to start calling you turtle from now on, would you like that?"

"I read a book where the main character's name was Turtle once," she replied, stepping on the mat that made the automatic doors open. She loved stepping on that mat. It'd always made her feel somewhat powerful. She could open a door with just a _step_.

"The Bean Trees?" He asked, and she looked up at him, her eyes wide, nodding. "That was a really good book. We read it senior year."

"It was so good!" Pam gushed. "I can't believe you've read it! I didn't even know you knew how to read."

Jim laughed. "Hardy Har Har," he said, grabbing a basket. She smiled, and they headed off through the aisles. They'd just picked up noodles, cheese and some stuff for salad, when she heard a voice behind them.

"Jim?" it was a man's voice, and when she turned around, she recognized who it was instantly from all of the pictures. Jim was ahead of them, looking at sauces on the shelf, and she smiled at the man, before turning toward Jim again.

"Jim!" she said, and he turned around right away, about to ask her a question when he noticed Drew standing there.

"Drew! Man, good to see you," he said, tossing the sauce in his cart and giving Drew a quick hug. "How are you, man? You look great!"

"Thanks, so do you." Drew smiled. "Who's this pretty little thing you've got with you?" Pam blushed lightly, and Jim shook his head.

"Oh, sorry, this is Pam. Pam, Drew." They shook hands, and Pam smiled.

"It's great to meet you," she said. "I've heard so much about you."

"Uh oh," Drew replied, laughing. An older woman was starting to come down the aisle, so they moved to the side, all three of them laughing. Drew pointed at Jim and spoke to Pam, "this guy was seriously the funniest kid in high school." Pam smiled, before Drew turned back to Jim, "man, how many class clown detentions did you get?"

"I don't know," Jim laughed. "Hundreds, probably."

"Did you get any disadulations?" Pam asked.

He grinned, winking at her. "Of course, hundreds." Drew watched them, a knowing smile on his face. Jim turned back to him, "Where's Allison?"

Drew smiled, "she took Jack to go get a c-o-o-k-i-e from the bakery," he said, gesturing to the boy in the front of the cart he'd left down the aisle. Jim smiled, pulling Pam's hand toward the cart and whispered in her ear.

"That's Andy. He's five and severely autistic," he'd just had enough time to get the sentence out when they reached Andy. Jim smiled.

"Hi Andy!" he said, putting his hand up. "Can I have a high five?" Andy stared at his hand for a minute, before shaking his head.

"No!" he screamed.

Drew sighed, "Andrew, be nice. Remember, we know how to say Hi. Can you say Hi to Uncle Jim?"

"No!"

"What about Pam? Can you say Hi to Pam? She's a friend of Uncle Jim's." Drew reasoned.

Andy stared at Pam for a moment, squinting his eyes as he flailed his arms in the air lightly. "Hi!" he said, his speech blurred to the point Pam almost couldn't understand him.

"Hi there, Andy," she smiled. "Can I get a high five?" she asked. _I've never seen an autistic child before. I mean, I read about them in school and everything, but this is just heartbreaking._ He turned his head to the side, kicked his feet, and then turned back to her and fisted her hand. "Oh, thank you! You give a great high five," Pam said. _He's five years old and he can't even open his hand for a high five? _

"He's doing a lot better than before," Jim said to Drew, and Pam looked up. _Better? He used to be worse than this? How in the world do parents deal with this? I can't imagine seeing your child hardly able to do anything. It must be absolute torture. _"He's making eye contact. He seems a lot more calm, too."

"Yeah, he's doing a lot better. We've switched his medication recently, and since then he's been a lot more calm. You remember he used to have seizures pretty much every day, and now he hasn't had one in almost a month. He's letting us touch him, and he's making eye contact. And he's saying a few words. He's doing a lot better." _Seizures? Every day?_

Pam looked down at the little boy, her heart heavy. She didn't know much about children, but she knew that a five year old boy shouldn't be reacting the way Andy was. She wanted to ask questions, be engaged in the child and his life, but she had no idea what to ask. And even if she did, she wasn't sure she would like the answer.

Just then, they heard a small boy yell from down the aisle, "Daddy!" She turned to see a little brown haired boy that looked almost identical to Andy running down the hall. Drew smiled, bending down and picked the boy up in his arms, holding him.

"I got him!" he yelled out, sure Allison was running after him. He turned back to the little boy. "Jack, do you remember Uncle Jim?"

"Hi!" Jack waved. He then turned to Pam, "Who you?"

Pam laughed. "I'm Pam. What's your name?"  
"Jack," he said, then put up three fingers. "Me 2 and half!"

"Wow!" Pam smiled, "You're such a big boy."

Jack nodded, pointing to Andy. "Andy!"

"Mmhm, that's Andy," a voice said behind them. Pam looked up, smiling as she saw a young woman walking towards them. She looked familiar, but Pam couldn't place her. "Hi, I'm Allison," she said, reaching out her hand.

"Pam," she replied, smiling. Allison turned to see Jim.

"Oh my gosh! Jim, how are you?" she asked, giving him a hug. He laughed, returning her hug. "It's been awhile since we've seen you."

"I know, I haven't been home in a while," Jim said. "How are you guys? How's your sister?"

"Alyssa's fine," Allison smiled, and Pam's head shot up. "She and Mark have their hands busy with the kids."

"How old are they now?" Jim asked, taking a glance at Pam and trying to reassure her with his eyes.

"Jake is three, and Bella is two. They're living in Boston, you know. Never visiting. Sound familiar?" Jim laughed, rolling his eyes.

"Well, good for them. I heard Kayla moved back?"

"She did," Drew said. "She and Nathan are living over on Sycamore. Only a few blocks away from your parents."

"Right, I heard that. Where's Matt?"

"Same apartment he was in the day after high school," Drew laughed. "He's writing screenplays and trying to get the big jerks in corporate offices to buy them from him."

Jim laughed, and Pam looked at him, before leaning in and whispering in his ear. Jim looked at her for a moment, before nodding lightly. "Hey, we're only in town for the night. How would you like to bring the family over for dinner tonight? We can invite Kayla and Nathan, and Matt?"

Allison and Drew exchanged glances, shrugging. "Okay, sounds great," Allison said, smiling as she pulled at the cart. Pam grabbed another can of spaghetti sauce.

"See you at 7," Jim said, as they took off to double their cart.

* * *

Pam was pouring the noodles into the colander when Jim came up behind her. "Mmm, those smell good." She smiled, running cold water over them. "I've never had baked spaghetti before," Jim remarked, and Pam shrugged lightly. "Is it good?" 

"Duh," Pam grinned, turning to look at him. "Go make yourself useful and cut up bread or make the salad or something." Jim put his hand to his heart, faking hurt before opening the fridge and pulling out the ingredients for the salad. Pam poured the noodles into a pan, added the sauce and some cheese and stuck it in the oven. Jim was watching her, and she turned around smiling. "Yes?"

"What?" he asked.

"You were watching me," she stated. "Why?"

"I didn't know you were a cook," he smiled.

She shrugged. "I learned how. All you men are so insufficient in the culinary department."

"Um, do you remember last weekend?" Jim asked.

Pam grinned, "not really, no."

"Oh, shut up," Jim replied, laughing. She grabbed the loaf of bread on the counter, cutting it into thin pieces as he mixed the salad.

"Okay, so remind me again about everyone's families and everything," she said.

He laughed. "Well, you met Drew and Allison. Allison is Alyssa's older sister. They're two years apart, I think. Obviously, Andy and Jack are theirs." Pam nodded. "Kayla met Nathan a few years ago and they got married. They don't have any kids. And Matt is single too, but you don't want to date him."

"I don't?" Pam asked. "Why not?"

"He doesn't sell paper," Jim deadpanned. Pam laughed, opening the oven door and sticking the bread in the oven. Jim watched her, noticing she looked a bit apprehensive.

"What's wrong?"

She sighed, leaning against the oven door. "Do you think they'll like me?"

"Yes," Jim replied without hesitating. She smiled, knowing he truly believed it. "They'll love you." She smiled, turning back towards the oven, when she saw Jim's mother come in the kitchen out of the corner of her eye.

"James Halpert, get out of here. I want to be able to eat something edible tonight," she scolded, hitting him with a rolled up newspaper.

"Mom!" he protested, but she kept hitting. Pam turned around, grinning. _I could get used to this… It feels like home_. She shook her head. _No, Pam, no. Home is your one bedroom, one bathroom, one kitchen apartment._ Finally, Jim left the kitchen, and his mother leaned on the counter next to Pam, rolling her eyes. "That boy's enough to drive any woman crazy."

"Tell me about it," Pam said, smiling. His mother smiled.

"What's going on with you two, dear?"

"I'm not really sure," Pam said, exhaling. "I don't want to jump into anything too fast, but I feel like every time I'm with him I just can't help myself, you know?"

"Mmhmm," his mom said, smiling. "It was like that with James' father and I. I had just gotten out of a long, hurtful relationship, and he wanted to come sweeping in on some magical horse and ride me off into the sunset. Well, I didn't want none of that," she said, and Pam smiled, giggling. "I wanted to be able to go to the beach with my girlfriends."

"So what happened?" Pam asked, leaning against the counter and facing his mother.

"Eventually, I realized I could go to the beach with my girlfriends and go out to dinner with him. It just all worked out." She shrugged. "And now we've been married for thirty something years. I can't remember how many."

"What?" Pam asked, grinning.

"I'm always the one that forgets our anniversary. He always remembers," she laughed, and Pam smiled. She heard the front door open and a few squeals, and Jim's mom smiled, placing her hand over Pam's. "He's been waiting forever, hon, don't make him wait too much longer." Pam nodded, smiling, as a tan, blonde woman walked into the kitchen. She smiled, throwing her arms around Jim's mother.

"Oh, it's so good to see you," his mother said, smiling. "You look absolutely stunning, Kayla." Kayla smiled.

"Oh please, you look like you haven't aged a day," she grinned.

His mother blushed, turning to Pam, "she's a liar, but I love her." Pam smiled, laughing lightly, as Kayla dislodged from his mother's grip and hugged Pam.

"It's so nice to meet you," Kayla smiled. Pam returned her smile, hugging her back. "I've heard so much about you!"

"You have?" Pam asked, perplexed. _How much could she have heard in the three minutes she was in the living room?_

"Of course, Jim's always talking about you." Kayla smiled. "Is there anything I can do to help in here?"

"We're about done," Pam responded. "But we're just having a little girl talk, if you'd like to join us."

"Girl talk? I'm in," Kayla said, smiling. Pam studied her face. She looked younger than she was, in that way that was always a compliment and never mean or cold-hearted. She was literally gorgeous, the type of small-town beauty that won pageants and went on Project Runway. "So, what's going on with you and Jimbo?" she asked, picking up a celery stick and chewing on it.

Pam blushed, laughing. "Not sure. Dating, but not together, I guess?"

"Oh, yeah, right," Kayla laughed, looking at his mom. "If he brought you here, you two are headed somewhere."

Pam blushed, "what do you mean?"

"God, when was the last time Jim brought a girl home?" Kayla asked his mom, and they looked at each other for a moment. "Oh, right, never!" Kayla said, and they both laughed. Pam's heart raced. "Oh, honey, don't get nervous. It's a good sign. He used to say no girl was good enough for Snyder."

"Wow," Pam said, shaking her head lightly, nervous laughter piling in her throat. "It's just that I'm not sure how to respond to that. I mean, I just…" She trailed off.

"We know," Kayla said. "You just got out of a relationship. You don't want to take it too fast..."

"How did you know that?" Pam asked, her arms hugging her chest. _I can't believe he told them all of this about me!_

"That's how every girl seems to be when she meets Mr. Right," Kayla said, shrugging. "I just assumed."

Pam laughed, "so you're one of his best friends in the world and you can tell me he's still got the possibility of being Mr. Right?"

"Uhh, yeah!" Kayla grinned, laughing. "I'm telling you, if Nate hadn't come along…" Pam laughed. "I once tried to convince Jim to strike a deal with me that if we were both 28 and single, we'd marry each other."  
Pam laughed. "Well, that's good for me he didn't accept it, then. We both just turned 28."

Kayla laughed. "Well, Jim isn't really the type of guy I'd marry. I like the muscular ones like Nate in there?" Pam smiled, hearing grunts coming from the other room. Jim's mom stuck her head out to peek at the boys, then rolled her eyes.

"They're wrestling," she said, and Pam laughed.

"Boys will be boys," Kayla said, grinning. The doorbell rang. "That must be Drew and Allison," his mother said. "Or Matt."

Pam was surprised when Matt and Allison both walked back. "Wait," she said. "You're not together." The girls all laughed, and Matt shifted somewhat uncomfortably in his shoes. "I'm Pam," she said, reaching her hand out to shake Matt's. Matt nodded.

"The famous Pam!" he said, loud enough for all of the girls to hear, and they all started giggling. He laughed, then headed out the room to go wrestle with the boys.

"It's starting to make me a little nervous that I'm famous Pam," she said, blushing slightly. Allison shook her head, grabbing a carrot.

"Don't be nervous," she said. "It's just that Jim mentions girls as much as Lance Bass does. So it's one of those things that when he mentions one, everyone takes notice."

"And he mentioned you, a lot," Kayla grinned.

"Oh, come on, ladies, you're making Pam feel uncomfortable," his mom stepped in, and Pam sighed, relieved. She put her arm on Pam's shoulder, "Honey, he never mentioned you at all."

Pam's face shot up, a look of horror. "What?"

"I'm just kidding," his mom laughed. "Don't look so aghast. He talks about you like you're Jesus himself."

"Oh, well I can guarantee you I'm not," Pam laughed, joining the others. The oven timer dinged, and she jumped slightly, pulling on the oven mitts and pulling the bread and spaghetti out of the oven, placing it on the stove.

"Ooh," Kayla said. "Lucky Jim, he's getting himself a cook."

"Oh come on ladies, cut it out," Jim's mom grinned. Pam shook her head, despite herself, hearing the girls laugh behind her.

"You girls tease me like my sisters do," Pam grinned, placing the bread in a basket. She realized what she said, stopped dead in her tracks and laughed into her hand. "Damn."

"Mom, Pam said damn!" Kayla said.

"Don't tattle on your sister," Allison scolded. Pam rolled her eyes, laughing. She grabbed the wine off the counter, pouring each of the girls a drink before walking into the living room.

"Boys, dinner," she said sweetly, watching as they all froze at her voice, then rushed toward the kitchen. The girls rolled their eyes before making their own plates, Allison making an extra one for the boys who were running around the living room. Drew was holding onto Andy, who could barely walk straight, and Jack was yelling out something about cars.

They all sat down to eat, conversations ranging from high school memories to jobs, to Dwight to groundings. Pam laughed along with them, even contributing to the conversation some. The spaghetti was cleared and the bread scarfed down, leaving only the salad. Drew and his family left shortly after dinner, leaving Matt, Kayla and Nate behind. The three of them slowly trickled out—Kayla and Nathan had an early morning engagement, and Matt had some last minute revisions to do on a draft that was due the next morning. Jim pulled Pam outside.

"Look," he said, pointing up at the dark sky, the stars twinkling. She smiled, watching them, leaning her head against his shoulders.

"It's beautiful," she said, and he nodded. She could feel the movement against her hair, and it sent shivers down her spine. He grabbed her hands, pulling her body close to him as he placed his hands on her waist. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist, leaning into his chest, smelling his cologne. "We don't have any music," she said softly.

He smiled, "sure we do." He began humming, a tune so familiar to her she would never admit it. She recognized it instantly as the song they'd been listening to on their roof date. She could feel the vibrations against her cheek, and she smiled, leaning into him.

"S is for swaying," she said softly, and he smiled, continuing to hum more songs as the stars set over them. When his vocal chords couldn't hum anymore, he simply breathed into the air, and she felt silly, but she liked that just as much.

* * *

He pulled into her apartment complex at 12:15, aware that she was asleep in the front seat. He looked in the rearview mirror, for the first time remembering George was buckled in the back. He smiled, opening the back door and unbuckled George. "Come on, buddy, let's get you and Mommy to bed," he said softly, picking up the lion in his arms. He went around to her side of the car door, unbuckling her and lifting her up in his arms. He struggled carrying her up the stairs. It wasn't that she was heavy—he just didn't work out enough. He somehow managed to unlock the door and carry her inside without falling or dropping her, and when he finally set her on the bed, his arms were relieved. He tucked George under her arm and smiled as he pulled the covers over her body, heading to the door to turn off the lights.

His hand was posed over the light when he heard her voice, soft and weak and full of sleep. "I'm not in my pajamas," she said softly.

"Shh," he smiled. "Go to sleep, Pam."

She yawned, pulling every part of her and her bed closer together. "Thank you," she murmured, and he almost didn't hear her because he had already shut the door and hurried down the stairs. The whole way home, he couldn't help but think of how much everyone loved her. And how much he did too.

* * *

And there you have it. 7 more letters. :) PS. For those of you who want more AG action, try reading Diary of a Broken Heart. It's Pam's diary starting with Dundies and right now it's up to La Coup. If you can get past the first few chapters, you'll love it :)

Review please!


	21. T is for Teddy

Dear readers,

Please do not hate me. I promise you from every fiber of my being that I did not plan this chapter. It was pulled out of nowhere. I didn't even plan what they would be doing for this chapter. I didn't plan the beginning, middle, or end. It just happened. I had a picture of Jim swigging his beer, and that was all, and all of a sudden, it was the story and it evolved into this. However, please note that while this chapter does change the course of the story as far as things unrelated to the JAM relationship, it will not change any of the date plans, or what is accomplished on them.

I ask that you please examine more than what's being said, and look at this chapter and see how Jim and Pam have changed throughout the course of the story. How different they are from chapter one. And maybe that will make you feel better. Also, I ask that you really do respond to the questions she'll post at the bottom of the chapter because now she's a little confused.

Also, I want you all to know that you're the best readers/reviewers out there and I love you bunches. :) I love the little community I find in my reviews :) Also, those of you looking for more AG stuff (because I can't seem to lay off writing more stories!) I posted a new one. This Is Your Life. So, check it out if you wish.

-AG

Reviews:  
Kerber- Thank you. I was hoping you all would like it... I feel like Jim's past is NEVER explained, so I thought I'd put it to good use.  
Penguin- Aww thanks!! The Office will come back on April 10th. The writers returned last week, and the actors return on March 10. Dinner Party is first episode. Ahh, Sora, cool. Is she on MTT too? I have a friend named Sora there.  
Eaglechic- Glad to make your day better!!! And yes, she definitely, definitely did! Kudos to you! I watch Full House with my kid and that's what we watched that day, lol.  
Squint- Thankkkks! And yeah, I see Jim as being the wanderer. Haha. George. RAR. haha.  
Anon- Felicity is dang awesome!!! We put that play on in 4th grade, just like Jim! And there was so totally something going on with Felicity and Ben:)  
Pirate- Hahahahah. I love Adelaide. She's my favorite. And MTMT is my favorite song on there... I do like Luck Be A Lady, too. :) And thank you.  
DPP- Aww, sorry to make you almost cry. Unfortunately, that's life. I try and incorporate a lot of my own life into fics, which is where Andy came from. I just think there needs to be real problems and real conflict in fics, so... Yeah. Oh, I loved when Jim responded! It cracked me up. I swear, I'm so weird. I write stories and they crack me up sometimes!  
Nat- Hah, I love making up things about Jim! I'm glad you think it fleshed him out--thats so important!! And the latin competition is fun... Guilty as charged!! Thanks for reading!  
LoveMeSome- Thank you, thank you! Jim is precious!  
Autumn's Child- Yeah, it's definitely a lighter story than Diary... Diary's all about inner conflict and turmoil. And thanks so much about the realistic thing. I was going for that. And about Alyssa--I know I PM'd this to you, but my god, that cracked me up that you found that!!! Definitely an oversight.  
KT- hah, I hardly ever write this story in one setting again. That was almost 30 pages. This one was written in one setting, three hours. It's the first one in a while :) And no, W is not for Wedding.  
Henantz- Aww thanks. Jimbo is the hardest character for me to write, so of course this one is entirely in his perspective. Shrug, go figure. I'm already in love with him, haha.  
Dancer- Aww thanks! Kathy! Hah, the zit faced girl :) And 7 letters.. Yikers! here's to 6!  
Ruli- sigh you leave such great reviews, darling! The clues were so hard to come up with, lol!! And George is funny, and I debated not putting him in there, but I figure if I talk to my lions so does Pam. School tours yes! and the mom-Pam thing is great. Especially the beginning when Mom ignores jim! hahaahah. And autistic girl! Wow!!! Andy is a four year old boy, which is much more common. And he's severely autistic, too. I understand the heartbreakingness of it all, believe me. Sorry to hear that about your cousin, but it is such a growing thing. T is for... Tuna Fish.  
Princess- Haha! I love to make you all cry! And thank you!  
Christine- I'm glad you didn't hate it! And I won't make you wait that long, I promise... And I'm glad you loved it:)  
Lunar- Thanks! And your last review was fine, just wanted to set things straight. Sorry if I sounded mean :) And thanks for the compliment!  
Tacos- I love your name. Cracks me up. And thanks! I hate one-sided secondary characters. Haha  
RabidFrodo- Phoenixville is just trying to be like Snyders, PA ;) Which MB is it? I'm on MTT already and LJ... Let me know if its another. :)  
Jgrrl- Sorry to dissapoint re: the kiss. Haha. but there was one at the beginning!!  
Brney- Aww thanks. And I hope you do cry! then you're invested and I gotcha. Haha. Haha, no, we cant make up letters...  
Iluvhalpert- Aww thanks!! Thanks for reviewing, I love hearing your thoughts! This one's way shorter!  
KristinePotter- Yah, I think it was a hard step for Jim because now he's letting her in a bit more and letting Alyssa go... Not sure if you got that symbolism or not, but yeah. She's basically stepping in and being the fifth that left. :) And seven letters, but I never said seven chapters...

* * *

Jim took a swig of his beer, listening to the sounds of the TV blaring in the background. It was 4:10, and he'd already gotten back from his date with Pam, exhausted and utterly unable to even remember everything that had happened. He normally wasn't like this. He was Jim. He could remember every single detail of every single conversation when it came to her. But something had changed that day. Something had snapped and suddenly, it didn't seem as important to him that he memorize every wrinkle on her forehead, every tone in her voice, or every word she said.

The dates were getting less creative, and honestly, he was fine with that. He didn't need to impress her anymore. He didn't need to try and make her fall in love with him. That Jim was done. For so long he'd treated her like an unattainable object, some sort of prize to be won. She wasn't. He'd treated her like the Queen of England, and for the first time, he realized she wasn't.

_He'd knocked on the door five times before he heard her bark at him inside her apartment. "Jesus Jim! You have a key!" she'd yelled. He sighed, rolling his eyes and opening the door._

_"Where are you?" he called, looking around the apartment, noticing she hadn't yet done her weekly clean up. There were newspaper clippings and paint brushes all over the place, a few paper plates here and there, a stack of CDs on the floor. He stepped over the Beatles collection as he followed her voice._

_"Shh! You're waking me up," her voice sounded groggy, and he rolled his eyes, laughing as he put his ear to the door. He knocked slowly, softly, before opening the door quietly and slowly, afraid she might be dressing or mute. Not that she ever had before, but today was a day to take extra precautions. She groaned as the door creaked, putting the pillow over her head and screaming into the mattress. "No, I don't want to get up," she said as the bed shifted under her._

_He sighed, reaching his hand out and rubbed her back, "c'mon, you got to, Beesly. We've got a day in front of us, you know."_

_She muttered something, and the tone of her voice made him not want to know what it was she'd said, but then she stuck her butt in the air like a three year old, bringing her knees to her head and said, "why do we have to do this so early? Dates are normally after I brush my teeth."_

_"Well, today's can't be. Come on sleepyhead," She groaned in response, so he tickled her sides. She turned over, clutching the sides as she told him to stop sternly, but he could see a bit of a smile playing on her face. He sighed, standing up and walking towards the door. She grinned, putting her face back down in the pillow before he turned around, tickling the bottoms of her feet. She jumped three feet into the air, shrieking and giggling._

_"Stop! Stop! Oh please! Please stop!!" she whimpered as he continued to tickle her._

_"That's what she said," he replied, letting her feet down against the comforter. She sat up in bed, rolling her eyes as she rubbed them, yawning._

_"I hate you for waking me up this early," she said, climbing out of bed and into the bathroom. She loaded toothpaste on her toothbrush, positioning it near her mouth. "What are we doing today?"_

_"I don't know yet," he replied as she stuck the toothbrush in her mouth._

_"Umphadoya?" she said, and he laughed, hearing sounds but no words in what she said._

_"Finish brushing," he said, heading out into the kitchen to make her morning bagel. He made sure not to let any of the spices fall anywhere other than her plate._

He took another swig of his beer, flipping the channels on the remote. He'd missed the Phillies game that afternoon and was hoping to at least catch the score on ESPN, if not a few of the highlights. She'd been so moody all morning long he couldn't understand why. He'd checked Dwight's calendar the day before and nothing out of the ordinary was coming up (or at least there were no little red Ps anywhere). Maybe she'd just woken up on the wrong side of the bed, but normally she looked somewhat happy to be out on a date with him. Today, though, she seemed like she'd been dreading it.

A commercial for Clorox came on, and he couldn't help but sneeze in reaction. He thought he might be allergic to the commercial itself, which was ironic considering the commercial was for a cleaning agent. He rolled his eyes, his forehead wrinkling as he thought back to earlier that day.

_"What kind of cream cheese is this?" she asked, picking up the bagel and staring at it. _

_"Well, it's pink, so strawberry." _

_She made a face in reply. "There's a whole tub of plain in there."_

_"What? You didn't want Strawberry?" he asked, and she shook her head lightly. "I thought since it was close to empty it must be your favorite."_

_"No. Everything goes with the plain," she said, taking a bite of her bagel. She sighed, putting it down. "It's no the same. Let's just go." He watched as she got up out of her seat and walked toward the door, grabbing her purse on the way out. _

The Giants were running the bases. He couldn't figure out why. He'd been in la la land, thinking about how she'd been reacting earlier that day. What was her problem? It was like there was a new Pam going on their date that day. The old Pam wouldn't have cared if he'd put the wrong kind of cream cheese on her bagel. She would have just eaten it, thankful he'd made it for her. When did she start reacting this way? And if she really wanted her bagel with plain cream cheese, she should have told him that last week when she told him about her bagel regiment.

_"Jim, I'm going to have to be a stickler here," she said as they approached the entrance to the mall. "You can't use the T date for The mall. That's cheating."_

_"I'm not," he replied, looking at her. She was biting her cheeks, looking ahead almost angrily. He couldn't figure out why she was so upset. He opened the door for her, and she went straight in, muttering a small 'thanks' under her breath but nothing else. He watched her walk in front of him._

_"Well, you're welcome your majesty," he muttered under his breath. She stood by the gumball machines, waiting for him to catch up, and when he did, she just turned on her heel and walked beside him._

There was something different about her, and he couldn't figure out what it is. She was angry at something, but he wasn't sure what. Was it something he'd done? Said? He wasn't sure. But there was something that was keeping them from having a normal date… Something was keeping her from being open to him, and he had no idea what it was.

_"We're going in here," he said, touching her arm and leading her away from the bookstore and into the silent shop with cotton flying all over the place._

_"What is this?" she asked, looking around the store at the children running around everywhere. "Build-A-Bear?"_

_"You make your own teddy bears," he replied, and she pursed her lips together, nodding slightly. "Can you try and be a little bit more pleasant?"_

_"What?" She snapped, turning to face him._

_"You've been acting angry all morning. Either tell me what's wrong or try and be a little bit more pleasant," he replied._

_She didn't say anything, just smiled at him in one of those fake smiles that children put on after being scolded to 'be nice'. He sighed in frustration as a young girl in a bright blue polo shirt came towards them._

_"Hi, I'm Brittany!" she said, overwhelmingly perky, her dark brown hair shining. "Have you ever been to Build-A-Bear before?"_

_"No," Pam muttered under her breath. _Okay, so it must not just be me. _"How do we do this?"_

_"Oh, no problem!" Brittany said happily. "I'll help you, come right this way." She walked toward the back of the store, pointing at the different shades of bear fur there was to choose from. "Pick your bear color."_

_Pam sighed, looking up at the wall and pointed to a color quickly. It was a light, butterscotch colored bear. Brittany grabbed the outline of the bear down from the shelf, leading them over to a group of music boxes. "Do you want your bear to play any music?" she asked, smiling._

_"What do you have?"_

_"Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star…" Brittany started, reading off the list of songs, "The teddy bear song… That's the one from Full House, if you know it." She said quickly, and Pam nodded, rolling her eyes when Brittany looked back to her list. He watched her, mesmerized by how strange she was acting. _God, what the hell is up with her today. _"We have a lot of Christmas songs," Brittany said, "I know it's not Christmas, but still… Happy Birthday… Umm, Jesus Loves Me. And we have A Whole New World, So This Is Love and Colors of the Wind."_

_"A Whole New World," Pam sighed, as Brittany reached into the cupboard and pulled it out, placing it inside a little pouch built inside the bear. _

_"Now we're going to stuff the bear," Brittany said, walking over to the stuffing machine._

_"Yippee," Pam deadpanned to herself, but Jim heard her. He wanted to slap her upside the head for being so damn difficult._

Her bear had turned out really well. They'd placed a star over his heart where the music box was, so anytime Pam pressed it she could hear Aladdin singing through the bear. The cute button nose glistened, and the bear's dark brown eyes were happy and cheerful, even if she hadn't been. They'd given her a Certificate of Birth, asking Pam what the name of her bear was. She'd shrugged, so Brittany had left it blank, telling Pam she could fill it in later. Pam had whispered under her breath something about it not being likely, and when they'd gone to leave, Jim had no choice but to say something.

_"Pleasant, remember?" he said, carrying the bag from Build-A-Bear that Brittany had offered them once they'd finished._

_"I'm being pleasant enough," she replied, pursing her lips in silence. "Where are we going now?"_

_"I was going to take you somewhere I think you'll enjoy, but you have to promise to be nice."_

_"I am nice," she replied._

_"Yes, for the majority of the time you are," he said, and she glared up at him. "What's wrong with you today?" he asked softly, begging her to tell him._

_"Nothing," she said quickly, plastering a fake smile on her face. It didn't look fake to anyone other than him, but for someone who had become a master at knowing the smiles of Pam Beesly, it looked like the fakest smile he'd ever seen._

He sighed, thinking about it. Why had she been so darn defensive, all day long? She'd been much better after that little talk, rolling her eyes without looking at him and not muttering what he was sure was on the edge of her lips. She'd been almost completely silent the entire next activity, leaving him to run ragged in his mind, trying to figure her out.

_"What is this?" she asked, walking into the cold room filled with square 6' by 6' stones and random pieces of glass, glues and paints. "What are we doing here?"_

_"We're making tiles," he replied, leading her to a place on a small bench. She sat down slowly, sitting at just the right place on the bench where he couldn't have sat next to her if he wanted to. She'd forced him to sit across from her. "It's a tile-making company. Kids have their birthday parties and stuff here."_

_"Okay," she replied. "Why are we making tiles?"_

_"I figured you might want something leading up to your garden," he replied._

_"I don't have a garden," she said, looking at her stone, as if contemplating what to make._

_"Well, I'm talking about when you get your terrace. I'm sure you'll have a garden to go with your terrace," he replied, but she was already working, no desire in her to give him the benefit of replying to him again._

They'd made three tiles each, in complete silence. She'd smashed glass squares into little pieces, her hammer hitting them hard, at some points, the glass even sputtered all over the place. One time it hit him in the face, but she didn't look up, even when he reached his hand to his face and cried out in pain. Hers were better than his, jagged pieces of glass everywhere, glued down roughly. On one she'd painted the sun, shining bright against a dark sky. It was a kind of strange painting. The sky was a dark blue on one end of the stone, fading into a light one on the other. A sun in one corner, the moon in another. Her second mosaic was simply abstract, glass plastered all over the place, as if she hadn't even tried, but it looked incredible. The third one was nearly all black. She'd painted it straight black, before attaching a few shining pieces of electric blue mosaic on the stone. It glimmered lightly, but the dark overtook even the glimmering parts with ease.

His weren't as lovely. On one, he'd made a mosaic family. A pink stick figure and a blue one, a little pink stick figure out to the side. On the other, he'd simply painted random splotches of paint, going with the _paint on a canvas_ idea he'd been so intrigued by when they were at the museum. The third had been a yellow background with one hand on each side, reaching out to each other, their pointer fingers just barely grazing.

He got up with his beer and looked at the mosaic squares on his kitchen table. They were drying before he'd give them to her. She hadn't wanted them to dry at her house. He was planning on letting her keep all six, after all, he'd only made his for her, and if he had it his way, they'd end up at the same place anyway.

He sighed. When had she become so mean and cruel?… No, she wasn't mean or cruel, but something had obviously been bothering her. He couldn't put his finger on why he felt differently at the end of this date. Sure, she'd been behaving strangely, but it was more than that. It was like, maybe, for the first time in his life, he'd looked at her and not seen perfection. He'd seen something different.

He'd always chalked her little imperfections up to be a product of Roy and her broken heart. He'd always made excuses for why she was behaving differently in real life than she was in his head. If dating Pam had done anything for him this week, it was give him the image of the person she really was. He wasn't stupid or hurt enough to think this was how she was all the time. He knew he wasn't that fuzzy in his brain to have missed her so completely, but it was a sense of clarity to him, hearing how she'd acted. Seeing her reactions to him. Seeing her in her worst mood. It was as if, finally, after years of her climbing up and being on the top of his mountain, being put on that pedestal, she'd finally fallen off. She'd just jumped off and fallen flat on her face in front of him, and it was almost like that pedestal didn't exist anymore. He'd gotten rid of it. And he wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing. He just knew it was different.

His phone rang in his pocket, and he pulled it out, glancing at the caller ID. He sighed as soon as he saw those three letters popping up. P-A-M. Normally he would have jumped at the chance to talk to her. He would have marveled at how amazing it was to hear the special ringtone he'd picked out for her (Best of Friends from Fox and Hound) and he would have answered cheerily, chipper. But this time, well, this time was a little bit different. He groaned lightly to himself, unable to control it as he remembered how she'd been behaving earlier. But there was something about her that caused him to be physically unable to turn away from her.

He opened his phone slowly, "hello?"

She was silent on the other end.

"Hello?" he repeated more urgently, getting fed up with her every extra moment he spent on the phone with her.

"Hey," she said softly. She sounded sad, dejected, hurt. He couldn't quite figure out what it was that she sounded, but even though he wanted to have walls up around his heart, he couldn't. Not when he heard her sounding like that.

"Hi," he said, even more softly. And then, "are you okay, Pam?"

"I…" she trailed off, before sighing. "Will you come over? Or can I come over there or something? I…" she trailed off.

"You what?" he asked.

"I need to talk to you," she said softly, barely a whisper, but he heard it. His heart raced. _What? What does she need to talk to me about?_

"Okay," he managed to croak out. "I can be there in five minutes."

She sighed. "No you can't. You're a good fifteen minutes away."

"I was planning on speeding," he said gruffly.

"Don't. I don't want you to get killed on your way over here," she replied, and then he heard the click on the other line. He sighed. _What in the world?_ He took one more swig of his beer before grabbing his keys and rushing to the car.

When he got there, he knocked three times. She didn't answer the door. He turned the door knob slowly, finding it unlocked. He eased himself into the apartment, tossing his keys on one of the tables by the door, right next to hers, and took a quick look around her apartment, noticing she wasn't there. He could see a vase on her table, the flowers withered and about to fall apart. He noticed a tablecloth on her counter, and he could tell it was dripping with water still, even though it was obvious that she hadn't been using it yet that day because her painting was dry and the towel no longer felt cool. He noticed on the floor shreds of a piece of paper, charcoal smudges all over it, and he walked towards her room, for the first time noticing that her hallway wall was bare of the thing he loved most about her apartment (other than her): her art.

He knocked on the door to her bedroom lightly, opening the door and walking in, leaving it open to the wind. She was laying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, her cell phone resting on her chest. He walked over to her, whispered her name, but she didn't move. Finally, he picked up the bear, pressing the small star on his heart, the sounds of _A Whole New World_ filling the room.

She sat up, looking right ahead before she sighed, getting up out of bed and walking a few feet out of her room. She turned to look at him, before turning back toward the living room, beckoning him to follow her. He did, and she sat down on the couch, extending her legs as she wrapped the quilt around her legs and arms, swaddling herself in it. "Can I see my bear?" she asked quietly, and he nodded, tossing it into her lap. She reached up to grab it, holding it under the quilt in her arms.

"Pam, what's wrong?" he asked, and she looked down at the floor, sighing.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, looking up at him. "I don't know why I was such a jerk to you today."

"It's okay," he said softly.

"No it's not." They were both silent for a moment, before she continued. "I completely ruined our date."

"Neah," he assured her, even though he'd been thinking the same thing himself earlier. "You were just upset," he said. _Weren't you?_

She nodded. "Yeah… but I had no right to treat you that way."

"Okay," he said softly. She looked up at him, and for the first time since that morning, she let a small tear fall down her cheek. _Well, at least we're seeing some emotion…_ he thought, watching the tear fall. "Can you talk to me about it? Whatever it is?"

She shook her head no slightly, and he sighed, getting up out of his chair. He walked over to the couch, sitting down next to her.

"Can I hold you?" she shook her head no again, and he sighed, before changing the subject. "Have you decided what to name your bear yet?"

She nodded slightly.

"Well, what?" he asked.

She rested her chin against her knees, looking over at him with soft eyes. "Burke."

"Burke Beesly Bear?" he asked, and she smiled lightly. "That's quite a name."

"Actually," she said softly, her voice barely a whisper, "it's Burke Bear Beesly."

"Ahh, like Paul "Bear" Bryant," he said, and she nodded, smiling. "Well, where did you get a name like Burke?"

She smiled, cocking her head to the side. "I have a friend. It's his middle name. I guess I just wanted to name the bear after him." She sighed, and he smiled, reaching out to touch her hand. She looked at him, her eyes wide and somewhat fearful.

"Does Burke Bear Beesly know what's going on?" he asked, and she smiled lightly, her head bopping up and down slowly. "Do you think he'd tell me?" She shook her head slowly, smiling.

"He keeps secrets," she said, glancing down at Burke the bear.

He nodded, and they sat in silence for a moment, before he finally asked, "Pam, do you want to tell me and you just can't? Or do you really not want to tell me what's going on?"

"I…" she stuttered, looking up at him. "I can't."

"Why?"

"I'm scared," she said softly, and he sighed, looking over at her.

"Why? It's just me," he said, and she looked up at him, her eyes still fearful, nodding. "Whatever it is, I'll still think you're the greatest girl in the world."

She was staring at her knees. "Even after our horrible date tonight?"

"Mmhmm," he said, and they were silent for a moment before he reached his hand out and placed it on her knee. "Tell me, Bees."

She was breathing steadily, so steadily and silent he almost wasn't sure if she was even still with him anymore, or if she'd drifted off to sleep, her breathing was so deep. She barely whispered when she did speak. "I got rejected."

"From what?" he asked, his forehead wrinkled.

"I applied for an art school," she said softly, and he was so immensely proud of her he could hardly contain it, but then he remembered that she was sitting in front of him, obviously broken up about it. "I… You said my stuff was really good, so I just thought I'd try…" she trailed off, shrugging.

"Your stuff is really good," he replied, and she laughed bitterly, shaking her head.

"They rejected me." She repeated the phrase. "I… I shouldn't have believed you… I knew I wasn't good."

"Beesly, you are good," he said, brushing her hair from her eyes. "They're just idiots." She sighed. "Did they tell you why or anything?"

She was looking at her feet, before tears started rolling down her face again. She looked up at him, or rather past him, not quite meeting his eyes. "They said my pieces didn't look professional enough… They said they looked like I did them in my high school art class."

He wrinkled his forehead. "Nobody in my high school ever did art like yours," he said. She sighed, exasperated.

"I think they meant I didn't put enough time into it. It looked choppy or something," she said. He ran his hand over her arms, scooting closer to her on the couch until he was close enough to wrap his arm around her. She nestled into his chest.

"Beesly, just apply to another one. You're too good to give up, and if you need more time to work on your art, let me know. We can postpone our dates, I can come help you and be your muse, anything you need. I'll be here."

"Really?" she asked. He heard her question, but looking in her eyes, he could see it even more vividly.

"Really," he repeated, kissing her forehead. She nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I feel so stupid," she said, slight laughter in her voice. "I just… I guess I really thought I'd get in. And then when I didn't… I didn't want to tell you."

"Why?" he asked.

She shrugged lightly, her voice smaller again. "I guess I thought you'd think less of me… stop appreciating my art or something."

He ran his fingers through her hair. "Pam, I'll never think less of you. I think you're phenomenal, even on your worst day." She smiled into his chest. "And I feel confident saying that because now I'm pretty sure I've seen you on your worst day," he cracked.

She laughed, hitting him in the head with her pillow. "You suck."

He smiled. "Man, Beesly, you had me really worried here. I thought somebody died or something."

She smiled weakly. "Just my dreams for a minute there."

"Well, good thing we could resuscitate," he quipped, and she smiled, nodding against his chest. "Okay, so, you keep doing your art. I'll look up some schools in the area too. We'll get you in there, Pam."

She nodded, smiling. "You know what, Jim?"

"What, Pam?" he asked.

She bit her lip, looking down at her hands for a moment before she looked back up at him, talking fast. "There was an opening for an art teacher at Scranton High. I saw it in the paper the other day."

"You should apply," he said quickly. "You'd be great at that. You could go to art school in the summer while the kids are off."

She nodded slowly, "do you think I'd get the job? Honestly?"

"I think you were made for that job," he said, and she smiled. "You're great at teaching people how to do stuff. Remember when you taught Michael how to use post-it notes? He got it right away, which is really something for Michael." She giggled. "And, you taught me how to use the coffee machine on the first day of work," he said, and she smiled. "And, you'd be able to pull pranks on all of the other teachers, which would make you, like, teacher awesome with the students."

She smiled. "Yeah, but I'd get fired."

"Well, then you could just come back to Dunder-Mifflin. Get all of those inappropriate sexual jokes back… Wasting time… Dwight… Angela…." She laughed at him, sitting up in his lap.

"You think I should go for it?" she asked.

"I do," he smiled.

"Okay, then I'm going to go for it," she said, smiling. "And this time I promise I'll let you know, no matter what the outcome is."

"Sounds great," he replied, and she smiled at him. "I'm really proud of you, Pam."

She looked up at him, a quizzical expression on her face. He elaborated, "you're really going after your dreams. I like that. You didn't used to do that."

"I know," she smiled, poking his chest. "Next week, we'll work on finding you some dreams."

"All of a sudden, I really want to be a gym coach at Scranton High," he said, winking at her. She laughed, rolling her eyes. "I hear they're all either gay or hooking up with the art teachers."

"You would be a great gay gym teacher," she teased, and he laughed. She smiled up at him. He smiled back down at her, before she spoke again. "If I get the job, promise me you'll come to all of the kids' art shows, and you'll email me and call me randomly, and we'll spend some Saturdays hanging out."

"Of course," he smiled, patting her head. "When that gym position opens up, though, I might have to reevaluate how much time I can allot for a female friend," he teased her, winking. She smiled, standing to her feet.

"Can I make you dinner?" she asked, and he nodded, happy to have her back to her normal self. "I can make pasta or pasta," she said, shrugging.

"Pasta sounds great," he replied, watching her as she headed into the kitchen. He followed, sitting down at the breakfast nook to continue talking to her.

"Jim?" she asked all of a sudden, and he looked up to meet her gaze. "How did you know I wanted a house with a terrace?"

"You mentioned it to me one day. Something about a book you'd read and how ever since then you'd wanted a terrace outside your window," he replied, and she nodded, slowly. "Do you still want that?"

She smiled for a moment, stirring the pasta in the pan. "You know… for a while, I gave up on wanting that but right now… yeah, I'd say I still want my terrace." He smiled, watching her as she turned back to the pasta. She looked up at him again, "and I'll want a garden, too." She smiled, stirring the pasta more as he thought about what she'd said.

"I want a garden too," he replied, and she reached for the colander.

She emptied the noodles into the colander, shaking it to let the excess water drain out before she carried them back to the stove, emptying them into the pan. She looked at him. "I know you do," she replied softly. "And a terrace."

* * *

Okay, so, we've all survived the wrath of bitchy beesly. Sorry to inflict that on you all, I didn't realize she existed, but she does...

Questions I want you guys to answer when reviewing... Along with the whether you liked it, favorite part type stuff...  
A) Do we want Pam to get the job?  
B) What do we want Jim to do with his life?  
C) Where the hell do you think this chapter came from? (I still have no idea)


	22. U is for University

Okay, so the chances of me updating this much in the next week and a half or so are very slim. I've written V already, and am in the process of W, but I have midterms these next two weeks and I seem to have gotten the horrible flu. You know, the one where you can't even keep down WATER. Yeah, it sucks.

I got such mixed reactions on my first question that I just went with my gut. And take it easy on the U. What could I do?

Reviews:

JamShipper- Hmm, your BABW must be different from ours because that's how ours works. As a nanny, I've had plenty of experience there too. As for Pam's bitchiness, I think it was called for, and it wasn't MEANT to be equal to her demeanor in other chapters at all. We all have our "bad days" when we come off a lot bitchier than we really are, so I'm not sure I agree with you.  
Elly- I'm glad you liked it! The garden/terrace. aww  
Penguin- Hmm. April 10th isn't that far away! Jenna said in her blog they go back to work March 3rd. So that's fun. :)  
Danny- You're so fun!!! I'm not sure why she didnt want jim to hold her. maybe because she wanted to be mad at him or something? i dunno. fluff is fun!  
Dancer- You summed up what she was feeling really well, and I think it's valid on her part :)  
KT- Re: art certificate. I don't know what the rules are in PA, but where I live, anyone that graduates with a major in Education has their teaching certificate. In this story, Pam did so. And I took that from Jenna's myspace, where she claims Pam majored in education. So, she's not underqualified, but you'll see it play out more through this chapter :)  
Katiebeth- Indeed it is! Hah. I love the parent trap... still.  
Nat- Yeah I agree. Jim puts Pam on a pedastool and he needen't to.  
Leah- Thanks!! All of your suggestions are great!  
Squint- I think it's important they have problems. What? haha.  
Pirate- No, I do not act. My best friend was in Guys and Dolls last fall, so I'm pretty familiar with the musical :)  
Jam- Yeah, I like bitchy beesly too ;) I mean, "Pam is... kind of a bitch."  
Rabidfrodo- Websites don't work here. they delete them. just tell me the name of it?  
Michelle- Love your name (it's my middle!) I think Pam is good with kids, she just doesnt think she is. :)  
Autumn's Child- Wow! Great review! I agree with you about how Jim seems to idolize Pam. I think it comes from the whole thing that we always think things are better than they are. Like when you have a crush on someone you fantasize about how great it would be to be theirs, and then you become theirs and you're like "oh." I'm going to play around with it a bit. I'm a big believer that you can't really love someone until you love their flaws too.  
Coffee- Aww thanks!  
Kerber- Yep. You've got to see each other's bad sides to fully appreciate the good :)  
amy- haha and when would she have gotten preggers?  
Lunar- thanks! thats what i was going for!  
Christine- Heh. I'm glad you liked this chapter. You'll like this one, too.  
Eaglechic- Thanks! I agree. Can't always be fluff and roses.  
Anon- yeah, they're learning how to fight/disagree. yay.  
Amanda- Hhaha on the P. Highly doubtful, my friend.  
Henantz- I just can't imagine Pam is ALWAYS perfect. Hah.  
Ruli- Thanks! I thought the chapter was different, but overall needed. :)  
Dean- YAY on the girlfriend :) heh. And thanks for the review.  
Elizabeth- You're too cute. Sorry I made you whimper like Dwight in the stairwell, haha. Speculation: Underwear. LOL.  
Brneyed- Haha! Burke Bear Beesly being adopted. How funny :) I love BBB!  
Jam- Cute, but might be a little too fluffy for my taste :)  
Beetjam- I want the terrace too. :)

* * *

His phone rang on the bedside table, the theme song of Pam playing lightly. "Hi," he said groggily, picking up the phone.

"Did I wake you?" He could hear her smiling just through her voice, delighted at the sound of what he sure was his sexiest voice. The one that came only when your hair was sticking up all over the place, your teeth weren't brushed, and you were still getting used to vision with sleep in your eyes.

"It's okay," he replied, sitting up in bed. It struck her how he replied. _It's okay_. He didn't say she hadn't, and he didn't say she had, he just said that it was okay that she had. Regardless of what time he went to bed that morning, he was okay if she woke him up in the middle of his best dream. It made her heart flutter. "What's up?"

"When is our date today?" she asked excitedly, and he chuckled. "Is it soon?"

"Pam, it's only 8:15," he replied, grinning at the tone in her voice. "I was going to pick you up around 11."

"Oh rats," she said, and he laughed. _Oh, rats?_ "I miss you," she said, her voice soft and breathy, and it was all he could do to contain himself from shouting silly phrases he'd heard in movies about love and happiness.

"Why don't you come over, then? I have some everything bagels and some plain cream cheese. We can have breakfast."

She didn't say anything before he heard the click on the other line, and he knew she'd be here in ten minutes. He chuckled, remembering her insistence the week before that he not speed over to her house, that he take the full fifteen minutes. And yet, he knew she'd be there in less time than it would take him to roll out of bed.

He'd just finished brushing his teeth when he heard her knocking on the door, and he smiled to himself, causing the toothpaste to dribble out on his chin. "Just a minute!" he called, spitting the rest into the sink and running the water over it, trying to get the residue off the sink in case she had to use the bathroom. He wiped his mouth on the towel, then hurried to the door, opening it to see her standing there in jeans and a t-shirt. "Hi," he said, opening the door wider.

"Hello," she smiled, hugging him. He grinned as she broke away, making herself at home just by the way she walked through the hallways of his place. She wandered into the kitchen, opening up his refrigerator and pulling out the bag of bagels and the tub of cream cheese. "You look like you just woke up," she smiled at him, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Mmhmm," he said. She was cutting her bagel in have with the bagel slicer. "Hey, you don't mind if I take a shower do you?"

She grinned, plugging her nose with her forefinger and thumb. "God, I thought you'd _never_ ask," she teased.

He laughed, picking up a crayon from his table and threw it on her, hitting her in the shoulder. She laughed, waving him off as she stuck the bagels in the toaster, and he left the room, heading into his bathroom to officially wake up and start the day.

She watched the toaster as it cooked her bagel, her insides wheeling with excitement. She took the bagel slicer, dipping it in the cream cheese, and waited for the bagel to be done so she could spread the yummy goodness on top of it. The bagel popped, and she grinned, grabbing a plate and quickly, but carefully, placing the bagel on it, making sure that as little spice as possible fell off. She quickly spread the cream cheese on top of each side, then sat it down at the table, pouring herself a glass of apple juice. _When you're done, make Jim one_, she reminded herself, hoping that she'd actually remember.

During the week, they hadn't talked too much. He'd been assigned to some "top secret mission" according to Michael, which had consisted of Jim having to sit in the conference room to do his work. Whenever he'd come up to reception "for a jellybean" or "for messages", Michael would always duck out of his office, yelling at Jim to stop blowing their cover. Jim would sigh, roll his eyes, and head back to the conference room. They'd only had a few ten minute conversations throughout the week, but by that time, there was so much going on, and it was all so important, that they never got down to talking about the reason he was in the conference room.

He'd told her that Janice was expecting another baby, and when she asked how that went over with the family, he'd told her that Alan had told him how great it was that both Jim and Janice would be having children at the same time. She'd smiled at that, remembering the early morning sickness and baby book fiasco over the Fourth of July. She'd told him about how all of a sudden she'd had more time to work on her art at work, and that one of the pieces she'd submitted was actually inspired by him. He'd told her about what he'd had for dinner the night before; she told him about the Lifetime movie she'd watched. It was meaningless conversation, but the type of conversation she treasured, where they could easily bounce off each other for hours, starting with as absurd and simple of a topic as the movie "Ernest Goes To Jail."

She took another bite of her bagel, smiling to herself as the creamy spreading hit her tongue, packing with it just the right amount of punch from the everything bagel. She chewed slowly, relishing in her bagel. _God that's good._ She had the bagel positioned at her mouth when she heard his cell phone ring, so she picked it up, looking at the caller ID. _Katy? What was Katy doing calling him?_

"Hello," she answered coolly, knowing she shouldn't have answered his phone, but it was Katy calling, and she figured she had a right to know why Jim's ex-girlfriend was calling her.

"Uh, Hi. This is Katy, who's this?" she said, and Pam could tell she was confused.

"Pam," Pam replied.

"Oh! Hey Pam, how are you?" Katy asked in her typical cheerleader fashion. "Are you guys working on a Saturday or something?"

Pam chose to ignore the second part of her question. "I'm good, how are you, Katy?"

"I'm great. Is Jim around?"

"He's not, can I take a message?" Pam replied, and she could hear bitterness creeping into her voice.

"Oh," Katy said, and from the way she replied, Pam wondered if maybe she was trying to find her brain. "Yeah, just tell him I'm returning his call," she said. _Returning his what?_ Pam could feel her blood boiling, "and just have him call me."

"Will do," Pam replied, putting on her fake-happy voice.

"Oh! Pam," Katy said, and Pam rolled her eyes. _God, can't you tell I'm trying to get off the phone with you?_ "Have you set a date for your wedding yet?"

"Uhh, what?" Pam asked, her head bolting up.

"You and Roy." Katy clarified, as if Pam had momentarily forgotten about who she was supposed to marry. "You guys were too cute together."

Pam could feel her stomach turn in knots. _Obviously he hadn't told Katy she was no longer seeing Roy._ "Actually," Pam started, wanting to correct her wrong with an equally painful right. She wanted to set Katy straight, tell her she was dating Jim. Tell her everything she couldn't tell Jim, but she didn't. "We're not together anymore."

"Oh, bummer," Katy said, and Pam could hear in her voice that she really meant it. She chuckled inside. _Yeah, real bummer…._ "Well, good luck! Have a good day!"

"You too," she replied, hanging up halfway through Katy's _We should do lunch sometime_ comment that she had a way of sticking on at the end of every conversation, like it was goodbye or I love you or something that was programmed into your mind to say every time you were about to hang up. She grunted, throwing the phone against the counter and took another bite of her bagel. _Why would he call Katy? What an ass… Getting action from another source. _The bedroom door opened, and he stepped out, jeans and a University of Scranton grey t-shirt on his body. His hair was brushed but still wildly untamed, and he grinned.

"How's your breakfast?" he asked.

"Fine," she said, looking up at him. "Your girlfriend called."

"Huh?" he quipped, "why'd you call?"

"Ha, ha," she mimicked him. "Katy. Katy called."

"Oh, okay, I'll call her later," he said. _You obviously don't get it, mister._

"She said you called her."

"I did," he replied simply, opening the fridge.

"Why?" she was irritated now. _If you're gonna cheat, at least be honest._

"I needed to ask her something about our date," he replied.

"Your date?" she asked, snarling at him.

"Yes, ours." He said, making a motion with his hand that he meant his and Pam's. "You're mad. Why are you mad?"

She sighed. "I don't know, maybe because you're talking to your ex-girlfriend behind my back."

"Pam, I'm allowed to talk to whoever I want," he said. "You can't get mad at me for talking to her."

"Yes I can," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, you can't. You can't say you're not ready for a relationship and then get mad when you _think_ I'm getting into one. It doesn't work like that."

She sighed. He was right. She knew he was right. If she was going to care what he did with his dating life, she had to become a part of it. "I just don't like you talking to her," she said softly.

"I know," he replied.

She was silent for a moment, before she looked up at him, her face soft, her eyes questioning. "You're not seeing her? Or thinking about seeing her?"

"No," he replied.

"You're not into her?" she asked again.

"No."

"Not even a little bit?" she asked, and he walked over to her, placing his hand on her head.

"Not even a little bit," he repeated. "I'm into you, you know that." Her eyes went wide, and he left her side, rescuing his bagel from the toaster and spreading cream cheese on it. He sat next to her at the table, and she smiled.

"I'm sorry I overreacted," she said softly, and he reached up and squeezed her hand, and she knew her apology was accepted. "I'm just a little on guard, you know… After Roy and everything."

"Completely understandable," he replied, taking a bite of his bagel.

"And she's just so pretty…" Pam trailed off, and he rolled his eyes, looking at her.

"Not pretty enough," he said, as he stuck the last part of his bagel in his mouth. She looked up at him, her face contorted in confusion. _Well, then, why the hell would I ever have a shot?_ "I mean, after all, she's no Pam Beesly."

Pam smiled, "that she isn't."

"So, are you ready for your present?" he asked, and she looked up, eyes wide. "Well, it's been a few dates since I got you a present, and you'll need it for this one." She nodded, grinning, putting her hands out eagerly. He laughed, reached up on the counter and handed her a box she'd never noticed had been sitting there. "Open it," he said.

She pulled the box open, reaching her hand inside and pulling out a royal purple hoodie, the words _Scranton Royals _embodied on the front. "Why did you get me a University of Scranton hoodie?" she asked, eying him.

"It gets kind of cold where we're going," he replied. "Keep looking in there."

She reached into the bag, "Where are we going?" she asked, as her hand touched another item—she assumed it was a shirt. She pulled it out of the bag, a grey, t-shirt she had once herself owned, but had somehow ended up as a dishrag one year when Roy was supposed to clean the house. She smiled, despite herself. "Scranton Hockey," she read to him, and then her face went pale. "No, no, no. I am not letting you take me to a hockey game on a date. No, no, no. I refuse."

"Paaaaaam," he said.

"What? I don't want to go to a stupid hockey game. You know that," she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Go get dressed," he said.

"I don't want to go," she said, but picked up the shirt and sweatshirt and went into the bathroom. A few moments later she emerged, old shirt in hand, the t-shirt and sweatshirt on body. "I still don't want to go."

"You don't have to," he replied, shrugging. "Purple looks really great on you."

"Thanks," she smiled.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

She groaned. "I don't want to go."

"Wow, what a change of pace for a girl who called me at the crack of dawn this morning to see when our date was." She blushed, shrugging. He studied her for a minute, "Pam, please go? It doesn't have to be the way it was," he said. She looked up at him, studying his face.

"Okay, but I'm not going to the bathroom," she replied, grabbing her purse and walking towards the door. He followed her out.

"Good, I would miss you too much." Her back was to him, but she smiled, reaching for the doorknob and wondering if she could quite possibly get used to this. He led her out to the car, checking his watch as he went down the stairs. He tripped over the last one, flying forward, but he caught himself in the air, blushing.

"Don't worry, I didn't see that," Pam said, smiling to herself as she opened Julia's door and climbed inside. "Hi Julia," she said, rubbing Julia's seat. Jim laughed.

"Jules has missed you," he said. "We've taken Sylvia the last few times."

"Not that we're playing favorites or anything," Pam said quickly, and Jim laughed. "Okay, so what time does this game start?"

He smiled. "Noon-thirty."

"Noon-thirty," she repeated. "Aren't you clever?"

"Yes," he replied, laughing. He glanced down at the clock in his car. "It's only 10:00. Could I interest you in a cup of coffee?"

"I think I would be interested in that, yes," she replied, grinning as he pulled into the driveway of her favorite coffee place. "How did you know this was my favorite coffee place?" she asked.

"Pam, _Utterly Coffee_ is everyone's favorite coffee place in Scranton," he replied, grinning. "Now, come on. Let's get you your chai tea."

She laughed, hopping out of the car and headed up to the sidewalk, waiting for him. When he finally reached her, they walked inside, and he gestured for her to go to the counter. She ordered her Chai Tea, reaching for her wallet, but felt his hand grab hers. He quickly added his drink to her order, then handed a crisp bill to the barista, telling her to keep the change. She was already sitting at a small table when he turned to find her, and only a second later did the barista hand him two drinks—her chai and his mocha.

He handed her the chai tea and sat across from her, pulling his chair up closer to the table to be closer to her. "What's on your mind?"

"Just thinking about my last hockey game date," she said softly.

"Wanna share your thoughts with the class, Bees?" he asked, knowing there was more on her mind than she was letting on.

"You sure you want to hear that story?" she asked. She was smiling her famous smile, and he couldn't help but realize how healed she seemed to be. She was still a bit shaken up, he knew, but overall… Well, she was over him overall. He nodded, and she grinned. "Okay, well it was our first date, as you know…

"I remember he asked me out that same day. I was standing by my locker, which was this horrid puke green colored thing, and I was pulling out my Astronomy book because for some reason I took Astronomy junior year. And so he comes up to me, and leans against my locker all cool-like, and says in his deepest voice, 'hey'. And I almost giggled because he was trying to be sexy and cool and it just… well, it wasn't sexy." She smiled, and Jim couldn't help but return it as she giggled lightly.

"So, he asks me to go to the hockey game with him, which is actually a bigger deal than it sounds because he was the _it_ guy in high school, you know?" She bobs her head lightly, and he nods, returning her smile. "I mean, every girl wanted to go out with him, and getting invited to the championship hockey game of the year by him was like… It was like you made it, or something." She laughed then, and he smiled, taking a sip of his mocha. "His brother, Kenny was going to take this cheerleader in our class named Alicia. But then Alicia had to cheer or something that night, and Kenny already had tickets so Roy brought him with us, which I'm convinced was the beginning of the downfall of our night."

Jim chuckled and she shook her head, laughing. "So, Roy bought me this huge diet coke, and I didn't understand hockey much, so I did that nervous thing I do where I just drink constantly… You know?"

"Yes!" Jim replied, laughing. "You will sip on your straw even if there's nothing left in your drink… even when the glass is clear."

"I know, it's horrible," she replied, laughing. "I don't know why I do it." She smiled at him then, and he smiled back. "Anyway, all of that diet coke causes a girl to have to use the bathroom. And I guess while I was in there the game ended, so Roy and Kenny left, and Kenny kept telling Roy he had to be to this party after the game by a certain time and he was nagging so much they just left. Roy remembered me right away though."

"It's hard to forget Pam Beesly," Jim said, and she laughed.

"Well, Roy is an exceptional human. He can rise to those kinds of challenges." She smiled, and he nodded. She laughed again, to herself, and he knew she was entertaining a thought that was meant to stay in her own head, not anyone elses. "So, I have something to tell you."

"Shoot," Jim said as Pam took a sip of her chai tea. She grinned.

"That chai is really good," she said, laughing, and he nodded. "Okay, so you know that teaching position I told you I was going to apply for?" His attention was all of a sudden fixated on her as he nodded. She smiled, "well, I applied Tuesday morning when I got to work and Friday morning I got a call from them. They want me to come down to the school this week for an interview."

"Beesly!" Jim said, grinning. "That's fantastic!"

"I know," she grinned. "I have to bring some of my artwork for them to look at. I'm really excited, though. I haven't had an interview in over five years."

"I know," he smiled. "I'm sure you'll get the job. You can tell anyone you want that I said that."

She smiled. "I'm actually surprised I even got a call back."

"Why?" he asked, studying her face. "You're amazing, and you have all the credentials."

She laughed, "That's not why I'm surprised. I'm surprised because I put Michael down as my reference." He stared at her with wide eyes, coffee sprouting out of his mouth. She laughed, grabbing a napkin and cleaning up off the table.

"I don't even want to know what he said," Jim laughed. "Why did you put him down?"

"I didn't want to put Dwight down, and Michael's the next highest up," she shrugged. "Nobody in corporate knows anything about me."

"Ah," Jim said, nodding his head. "Well, I have news for you, missy."

"Oh? What's that?"

"The top secret assignment Michael was having me do all week," he said, and her eyes bulged out. "Wasn't actually assigned by Michael."

"What?" she asked.

"I got a call Tuesday morning from Jan," he started, and Pam's eyes went wide as she looked at him. He smiled, "a few weeks ago Jan and I had a talk about my work at the company and I asked her to let me know if there were any opportunities for advancement, you know?"

"Jim, that's great," Pam smiled.

"Well, she called Tuesday and told me that they were actually going to be changing the order of managers, yada, yada," he said, waving his hands. "Basically, she promoted me to Michael's number two guy."

"What?" Pam asked, eyes wide. "So what does that mean?"

Jim shrugged. "Basically, I have to make sure Michael's in line, and I get to do all the disciplinary type stuff that Michael refuses to do. We're announcing it on Monday."

"Wow, what happens to Dwight?"

"Oh, well see, here's where they're changing things," Jim said. "We're going to have supervisors over each section of the branch. So there's Michael as the manager, I'm the Assistant Regional Manager, and then Dwight will be head of Sales, Angela will be head of Accounting, and Toby is in charge customer service…"

"Wait? So who am I under? Toby?" she asked, confused.

"Well, see, that's the thing… The receptionist is the only person that doesn't fit in a specific category, so you're your own supervisor," Jim said.

"Okay," Pam said, her forehead wrinkling. "That makes sense, I guess."

"Mmhmm," Jim said, sipping his mocha. "So, if you need a great recommendation for anywhere or anything, let me know," he winked at her, and she smiled.

"I couldn't ask you to do that," she replied and he nodded.

"Okay, well, if you change your mind…" he trailed off, then looked back up at her. "So, when is your interview?"

"Tuesday morning," she replied, and he nodded. "Then if that goes well enough, I'd have to go get fingerprinted and get a background check, and then if they decided to hire me I'd start whenever that cleared…"

"Okay," Jim said, nodding.

"But see, here's the really cool thing, Jim…"

"What? I thought you already told me the really cool thing!" he said, leaning in closer.

"The really cool thing," she said, "is that I would have to take a class at…" she pointed to her sweatshirt, "University of Scranton on education in order to renew my certificate because they expire every three years you aren't actively teaching." He nodded, trying to figure out why her having to take a class was so great. "And the school district pays for the class as long as you're hired there," she finished.

"Okay," he said. "Is that the cool part?"

"No," she replied smiling, and he looked at her with an expression that clearly said, _well, duh, let's get to it._ She smiled. "Since I'd be teaching Art, if I got the job, they'd pay for me to take a class or two in art school."

"No way!" Jim said, his hand hitting the table, his eyes wide with excitement. "Beesly, that's really, really awesome! You could get paid to do your dream! Twice!"

"I know," she smiled. "I was really excited when I heard it… But I don't know if I'll get it."

"You will," he reassured her. "I have faith in you."

She smiled, tipping her chair lightly. "I know you do, Jim." She took another sip of her drink. "So, I have a question…"

"Shoot," he said.

"Are you going to teach me what I need to know about hockey, or am I just going to be so totally bored it's unfathomable?" she asked, closing one eye and peeking at him through her open one.

He laughed, "hold on." He stood up, walking over to the barista and came back a minute later with a pen and a piece of paper. He drew out a picture of a rink, lines and all, and scooted his chair next to her, pointing with his pen. "Okay, are you ready?"

"Yes," Pam said, looking at the piece of paper.

"Okay, this is a rink," Jim said gesturing to the entire picture. Pam rolled her eyes. "Hey, you never know what you might not know," he said, and she sighed. "These two things are the goals. Okay, these little circles here are face-off circles. The most important line is this center line, it's called the red line and it's kind of in charge of how far up the ice all of the players can pass and shoot. These are the blues lines," he pointed at three lines placed throughout the rink. "They divide the ice into three zones. The little area between the first blue line and the goal is the defending zone for these guys" he pointed at the goalie on the same side, "and the attacking zone for these guys," he pointed across the rink at the other goal.

"Okay, so, blue line says what zone you're in," she started pointing, "red line says how far you can go with the ball, and the goals are what you score in. Oh, and the face-off circles are just there for facing off?"

"Close," he responded, and she looked up at him. "First of all, hockey is played with a puck."

"Oh yeah, I knew that," Pam said, laughing. "Wow."

"It's okay," he replied. "And the face-off circles are used when there's a foul or for some other reason a whistle blows." She nodded in understanding. He pointed at the goals, "Okay, right at the edge of the goal is a red line called the goal line. If the puck crosses that line, it's a goal, whether it goes in the net or not."

She nodded, "Okay. So then what happens?"

"Okay, hockey has three basic kinds of players," he said. "There are forwards, defensemen, and goalies. They can only have six players on ice at a time, unless somebody beats someone else up, and then they might have less."

"I like the fights," she grinned.

He laughed. "They're the only reason hockey is a famous sport." She smiled, and he continued, "The forwards line up right here," he pointed to the red line, "and the two on the end are called the wings, and the one in the middle is the center. Which is easy enough to remember."

"Like a bird," Pam said, and he nodded, chuckling.

"Okay, then there are two defensemen behind them, and they're kinda responsible for hanging back while the forwards go up and score. The defensemen can score too, but they have to be ready to protect the goalie and the defensive zone. Pop Quiz: Where's the defensive zone?"

She smiled, pointing behind the blue line closes to one of the goalies, "That's his defensive zone, but it's the other team's attacking zone."

"Good job, Beesly," he said, and she grinned.

"Now, the goalie stays in this kinda circlish thing around the goal called the crease. He rarely will go anywhere else because his whole job is to protect this goal line." He started, and she nodded. "So, basically, these guys score," he pointed at the forwards, "these guys defend," he pointed at the defenseman, "and this guy gets hit with pucks traveling 90 miles per hour."

"Ouch," she said, rubbing her arm as if he'd hit her with a flying puck.

He smiled, "ouch is right!" She laughed. "So, they all where pads and helmets and have sticks and that's not that important. But this is, in hockey, the bits of playing time are called periods. Each game has three periods, and each period has twenty minutes in it. There is a fifteen minute intermission between every period. Pop Quiz: How much playing time is on the clock for a hockey game?"

She paused for a moment, counting in her head, "60 minutes… an hour."

"See, you can totally be a teacher," he said. "You know how to count." She rolled her eyes, laughing. "It's really a simple game… I mean, it's hard to follow because they're always moving and stuff, but every now and then a good fight breaks out, and then it's worth it."

"Okay, question," she stated, and he looked at her for a moment before smiling. "What kind of things are bad to do? Like, what do the players get put in time out for?"

He grinned. "Fact," he said, and she slapped him in the arm. "Not much is considered wrong in hockey. I mean, it's pretty much a free for all… but I guess if someone tries to cut someone else open with their stick or their skate, that's bad. And you can't kill the goalie or pass certain lines or anything."

"Oh, okay. Is that all I need to know?" she asked.

"I think so… Anything else I can explain to you while we're at the game." She smiled, satisfied with his explanation, and he passed her the diagram, but didn't move his chair back to where it was. "It's more fun when you know the rules and stuff," he said.

She grinned. "So, since I'm letting you take me to a hockey game, does that mean I get anything I want from you?"

He laughed. "Uhh…"

She smiled. "Please?"

"What is it?" he asked, laughing.

"Well, I was thinking…" she started.

"You do that?"

"Shut it, Halpert." She smiled. "I was thinking about what you said last week… about how you wanted to help me with my art."

"Okay," he said.

"Did you mean that?" she asked.

"Absolutely," he said. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, I have my five pieces I can bring with me to my interview, but I wanted to make more, you know… to see if I can make better ones…" she trailed off.

"Okay, what do you need me to do?"

"I don't know, really," she said. "I'd hate to ask you to do it, but…"

"What is it, Pam?" he asked, chuckling.

"Can you like mix paints and do errands and stuff? It sounds so retarded now that I ask you, and you should just forget it… I mean, I can mix my own paints and everything, I guess I don't need you to help me. Just forget it."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She looked at him, an unconvincing nod.

"Are you sure?" he asked again.

She sighed. "No…"

"Okay, what time should I be there?" he asked, and she smiled.

"I'll start at eight, but you don't have to come at eight, you can come later…" she said, trailing off, but he was already planning to be there at 7:45, just in case.

* * *

She was standing in the line at the concession stand to get a diet coke. Jim was still up in the stands, trying to keep his eye on the hockey game. It was only ten minutes into the first period, and she was already dying of thirst. She'd just ordered a diet coke when she heard someone behind her, "Pam?" 

She turned around, squinting at the man behind her. He was an older looking man, and even though she didn't recognize him at first, she knew those eyes. They were different than the last time she'd seen them, and she couldn't quite place them. She stared at him for a moment before his face came flooding back to her. "Oh my god, Hank?" she squealed. He grinned, and she hugged him tightly. "Wow, it's so good to see you. What are you doing here?"

"Watching a hockey game," he replied. "What are you doing here?"

She laughed. "I'm trying to watch the hockey game. I'm afraid I don't understand too much of anything, though. Jim tried to teach me, but I'm as hopeless as can be."

"It's not that important to know anything about hockey, you've just got to be able to fight," he said, as the man behind the counter handed her a diet coke. She grinned as she watched Hank order something, pulling out a crisp bill and paying for it. She studied him for a moment, reveling in how put together he looked. His old, worn out clothes were replaced with simple jeans and a t-shirt, and if she hadn't known him months ago from the homeless shelter, she would never have had any idea he'd ever worked there. "So, you're still with that Jim, I see?"

"Kind of," she replied, laughing. "I'm not sure what we are." He gave her a look that easily said continue, and she opened her mouth, surprising herself how easily she could release her inhibitions and talk to Hank. "We're making a lot of progress. We just aren't there yet," she said. "We spend every Saturday together, and we've had a lot of really honest talks, it's just not time yet."

"Why not?" Hank asked.

"Well, I told you about the relationship I got out of, but I didn't tell you just how utterly dependent I was on the guy… and I don't want to fall in that rut of dependency again," she said simply.

"Being dependent on someone else isn't always a bad thing, Pam," he said. She nodded, and was about to contest him when he continued. "Listen, I told Jim something when I last saw him." Pam's eyes went wide with shock. "Don't give me that look, you know me, I can't help but dish out advice." She laughed, and he continued. "You can't get too comfortable where you are, or things will never change, Pam."

She looked at him for a moment. "You think I'm too comfortable?"

Hank looked at her for a moment. "You're in the same predicament he was in a few months ago. Things have to change sometime. You've been on the brink for months. Unless he killed your firstborn son, I don't see why we're not moving on here."

She nodded, slowly. "I'll think about that, Hank." He grabbed his hot dog and lemonade from the concession worker, and they walked over to a small bench in the stadium, neither wanting to break off the ties they had. "What's been going on with you these past few months?" she asked.

"Well," Hank said, chuckling lightly. "There was an old church on the corner of 5th and 3rd that really helped me out. I ran into one of the women that goes there outside of Petsmart, and she told me they could help me so I went there the next day and they gave me a place to say during the week so I could get cleaned up, and then they gave me a job doing all sorts of handy man stuff around the church. So I'm working now."

"Wow, that's great, Hank," Pam smiled. She could hear her phone buzzing in her pocket, and she knew it was Jim. She pulled it out, smiled, and turned it off, looking back at Hank. "Can you get visitors at your job?"

Hank grinned, "Yes ma'am. I'm there all day every day, and I'm pretty popular, so you just ask for me." She laughed.

"Will do. Maybe we can have lunch one day this week," she said.

"I think I'm free," Hank winked at her. "Bring that feller of yours, too."

She smiled as her phone vibrated in her hands. "I will." Hank looked at her phone, grinning.

"Is that feller?" She laughed, nodding, when Hank took the phone from her, flipping it open.

"Jim!" he said for a moment, and Pam laughed when she heard Jim's voice on the other line, an incredulous _Hank?!?_ that made even Hank laugh. "Man, I ran into your girl down here. Where are you?... Oh, well come down here before I steal her like I stole that orange… No I'm not kidding…. Here she is."

He handed the phone to Pam, and she smiled, bringing it to her ear, "Hi, sorry, Hank distracted me."

"He's a very distracting guy," Jim said, and Pam laughed as Hank stuck his tongue out at the phone. "I'm going to come switch places with you, if that's okay."

"Yeah, sure," Pam said, smiling. She hung up the phone quickly, standing up. "Jim's going to come talk to you for a minute. I have to take care of the game and make sure I report back to him everything that happened," she laughed.

Hank nodded, standing up and giving Pam a hug. He saw Jim walk toward them out of the corner of his eye, and he whispered into her ear, "The Ice Royals pulled a hat trick after Varrapino crossed the redline and ended up in the penalty box. It was a five on two and the Royals scored two goals back to back within seconds."

Pam nodded, whispering back, "will that work?" Hank shrugged, and Pam laughed. "it's worth a try," she said, heading back up to the rink, leaving Jim to talk to Hank.

* * *

She grinned as they left the rink. He watched her as she walked through the crowds, pulling his hand lightly. "Jim! That was great! I loved it. Hockey is so much fun!" 

"I thought you might like it," he replied, laughing. "It's a fun sport if you get to enjoy it."

She smiled, "thanks for bringing me. I really did have a great time."

"Good, I'm glad," he grinned. "Besides, I've got to know I can take you to sporting events… Otherwise, I'm not so sure what I'd do."

"You'd keep me," she smiled up at him, and he rolled his eyes, both of them knowing he would. "Okay, so, what are we doing next?"

"Wow, Beesly," he laughed. "You haven't had enough of me yet?"

"Not yet," she replied, poking his arm playfully. "You better bring on the heat if you want to get rid of me."

"Okay, so how about we go home, and I'll fry up some unicorn?" he asked, and she giggled.

"Okay, two questions. One, what does unicorn taste like?" He laughed, and she smiled. "Second, home?"

He blushed lightly, "well, that's what I call it. And unicorn tastes like feet."

"So a little bit like bacon?" she asked, and he laughed.

"It's a delicacy, Pam… We wouldn't know exactly what it tastes like," he said, opening the door for her. She grinned, climbing in the car. She pressed the button on the CD player, sticking her hand out as a purple disc flew out. It wasn't titled, so she looked up at Jim.

"What CD is this?" she asked.

"Oh, play it, it's for you," he said, and she grinned, sticking it back in the CD player. He turned on the car quickly, and she smiled, recognizing the smooth ballads of Gavin DeGraw instantly.

"Mmm, I could get used to him," she said, grinning. "No, seriously, what CD is this?"

He laughed, "Everyday with The Boys." She giggled, turning up the CD as he drove towards home. "So, did you and Hank have a good talk?"

"We did," she smiled. "We talked about him a lot… What did you two talk about?"

"You, actually," Jim said, glancing at her before turning back to the road. "I told him about your interview and everything. He was really excited for you."

She smiled, "you did?"

"Yeah," Jim said, smiling. "I explained to him a bit about where we work and how it's kind of a… not a dead-end job for you, but you have talents that could be used elsewhere," he paused, eying her reaction, but she gave him nothing. "And I told him we'd talked a bit about it a while back and then all of a sudden you started looking, and how proud I was of you."

She smiled, looking at him for a moment. "I'm proud of me, too," she said. "I've got some new thing called courage in my system now. It's kind of strange, but I like it."

He smiled. "Hold on to that, Beesly." She nodded as he pulled into the driveway of his house. "Okay, Beesly, here's the deal."

"What?" she smiled.

"I don't know," he replied, "I was hoping something would come to me." She laughed, pulling her CD out of the CD player and walking up to his front door. He lagged behind, so she rolled her eyes, pulling out her key and unlocking it. He walked in after her, and she sat down at the kitchen table after putting the CD in his CD player.

"Hey Jim?" she said as he pulled down a few pans to cook in.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for taking me out today… I really had a good time," she said, and he turned to look at her. "I think I needed that."

She paused, and he watched her as she thought. He could see the wheels turning in her mind. _Okay, so the first time I got left at a hockey game by Roy… and I was ignored and shut out and pretty much the third wheel the entire time… This time, I go to a hockey game, and I'm the ice princess, and I understood a lot of it… and I got to leave WITH my date… If that can be so different, why the hell can't everything else be different too?_

She rested her chin in her hands as he cooked some eggs and bacon in the pan. He finished quickly, spooning eggs, a few slices of bacon, and two pieces of toast onto her plate and his. "Yummy," she said, reaching for a fork as he handed it to her. He smiled, watching her, before digging into his own food. They ate in silence for a while, each enjoying the sounds of chewing and the taste of a mid-evening breakfast before Pam opened her mouth.

"So, I'm thinking again…"

"Dangerous," he commented, spreading his eggs on a piece of toast.

She ignored him. "…and I was thinking about how different going to that hockey game was this time than last time… Like, I actually had a good time tonight."

He smiled, "good, I'm glad."

She took another bite of her food. He did as well. They were silent for a few more moments, before she piped up again, "and if that can be different… you know, the hockey thing… I guess it means other stuff can be different too."

"What do you mean?" he asked, taking another bite.

"Well, you're not Roy," she said.

He looked up for a moment, and then pointed his finger at her playfully, "no hung jury on that one."

"And you never were really…"

"That would be correct."

"And our friendship was always different than Roy's and I's was… ever," she said.

"Mmhmm."

They were silent for a moment, and he watched her out of the corner of his eye as she took a few more bites of her eggs and toast. Her forehead was wrinkled lightly as she finished off her plate, and he sat watching her, his already finished off. When she'd finished eating, he got up, clearing their plates. She wandered into the living room, popping in a movie and he sat down next to her. About halfway through the movie, she rested her head on his chest, grabbed the remote out of his lap, and muted the movie.

"Hey, what was that for?" he asked.

"If you're not Roy… and we don't have a relationship the same way Roy and I do, wouldn't that mean that the whole dependency issue could be different with us?" she asked.

He nodded lightly, and she pressed the mute button again, letting sound fill the room. When the credits started to roll, she grabbed the remote, flipping the TV off. "We need to talk," she said.

"Okay," he said, and she sat up, pulling her feet to sit criss-crossed, facing him. "What's up, Pam?"

She was silent for a moment, and he could tell she was choosing her words. "I think I can learn to be independent with you…" she started, and he wrinkled his brow in confusion. "But every now and then it's good to be dependent, too, just as long as you don't get too dependent… and I think you kind of push me towards being more independent, and I need that…" she said, wringing her hands together. "You don't let me just slide; you make me go after things and decide things, and I need that…"

"Okay."

"Because with Roy and I, I wanted to make decisions, but he never encouraged it. He always discouraged it, so I didn't. But with you, I feel safe making decisions, and I feel like I can be independent and it's prized or valued or something."

He nodded.

She let out a breath. "So, I made a decision."

"Okay."

She smiled lightly, "are you listening?"

"Yeah, you're just talking a lot," he said, and she laughed. "I'm listening, go on. What's your decision?" he asked, his mind whirling through the next thing she could say about the teaching position that had opened up. It'd been all she'd talked about all day.

"I, uh," she stuttered, looking down at her hands. He was watching the top of her head, when suddenly she looked up, meeting his eyes. "If you're still up for it, I'm ready."

"Ready?" he asked, his mind reeling. _Does she mean what I think she means?_

"Yeah, ready," she said, biting her lip. "For this… us…"

He knew his grin was reaching from ear to ear, but he couldn't help himself. "I, yeah, yeah, I'm definitely still up for it," he managed to croak out.

She smiled slipping her arms around him in a hug. "Just…"

"Independence," he finished for her, and she smiled. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, grinning. "Can you just say that little line again? I want to make sure it's in my memory forever."

She laughed into his ear, smiling. "Nope, you only get timid Beesly once, mister."

He smiled. "Well, then, I guess that'll just have to do, huh?"

"We've only been together for thirty seconds, and already you're just making due," she said, teasing him lightly. "That hardly seems healthy."

"Oh shush," he laughed. She leaned up, kissing him softly on the lips and he responded, pulling her closer to him, his eyes closed. She opened hers first, letting her lips rest against his for a moment even after the kiss had finished, and when she finally pulled away, it took his eyes a moment to flutter open. "I could get used to that," he murmured.

"Well, you better," she said softly, kissing him once more, just a small peck on the lips. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

"That's what I like to hear," he said, holding her in his arms. They lay on the couch in silence for many minutes, each of them concentrating on the breaths of the other, the feel of each other's skin, the lingering sensation on their lips, before she finally stirred slightly, looking up at him.

"God, do you think there's enough change in my life going on right now?" she asked, laughing. He smiled, thinking of how beautiful her laugh was, and how he loved the sound of it bouncing off the walls, traveling through his entire house. For the first time, he seriously wondered how much it would cost to build a terrace outside his bedroom window.

* * *

Well? 


	23. V is for Videos

Update today, only because today was the cast's FIRST DAY BACK ON SET!!!

My spring break just started. Yay. I'm going to try my hardest to finish these chapters over the next week. Not that they'll be updated that soon, but at least they'll be done and ready.

Review Replies:

Weasley- Wow! Long review, thanks! Flu is now gone :) Thank god, it was like death. And your speculation always makes me laugh :)  
Nat- Well, Hank is probably easy to forget only because he was SO LONG AGO. haha. and actually, i've been hearing it might be april 3rd now? Who knows.  
Christine- I figured you'd like that chapter :) And yes, I do follow the NHL. I follow Bret Hedican (Carolina Hurricanes). San Jose is good too, though! They're my second favorite, and only because Bret is married to Kristi Yamaguchi and she's a huge SJS fan!  
Lunar- Well, we can't have Pam missing out on the best things in life!  
Anon- Aww, thanks!  
Dancer- I agree. I think it's one of those things that can subtly change their relationship :)  
Penguin Patrol- Thanks! And yeah, I feel better FINALLY. Three straight days of an hour of sleep, fifteen minutes of throwing up cycles. gross. I lost five pounds on that diet.  
Mofo- Okay. I can handle constructive criticism, but, I don't think you did a very good job showing me what you're talking about. I'm willing to hear you out on the Pam being too whiny thing, but I need some examples. So, provide me with examples where you think she was being too whiny, and I'll consider your view. However, with the Roy situation. Yes, Roy is not a bad guy. But I think to say that he wouldn't cheat on Pam is a bit of a stretch. Throughout the entire show you see instances of Roy hitting on other women (calling Angela the hot one, checking out Katy on the Booze Cruise, etc, etc). Just because someone is upset during a breakup doesnt mean they wouldn't have made a mistake. So, Roy, I don't agree with. Pam, I don't know where you're coming from, so as of now, I can't agree with you.  
Mrs.BigTuna- Thank you ma'am.  
KT- Yes, it was a lot of plot development. The next few chapters will be, but soon we'll get back to flowery thoughts and language :)  
Kerber- Thanks so much! You're too great!!  
CoffeeObsessed- I am not starting the greek alphabet! lol!  
Henantz- You begged, and I'm still a jerk. Sorry!!!  
Eaglechic- Oh! Thank you!  
LovemesomeJam- well, I wouldn't expect them to have a completely conventional romantic get together. It's gotta be dorky.  
Danny- Your enthusiasm is fantastic and inspiring!!!  
YoungForEternity- Wow! Thanks! You're greaaaaat!  
Squint- Hockey. sigh. i am in love.  
Ruli- Wow, I am a slave to your reviews! You seriously are just fantastic at them!!! And yes, it's much later in the year. I can't remember exactly when it is, but I believe this is mid-late October. :)  
Tophe- Me too! I can't wait for them to go out as more. :)  
gen-Thanks so much for reading!!!  
KristinePotter- Aww! I'm glad I can be the one to make your day!  
Brneyed- Yeah! I'm glad it made you happy. And shelters. Sigh. I have a homeless friend named James that I've been helping this past month or so, and it's amazing how much I yearn for the day he gets off the street. I didn't see him yesterday (and I always do. It's OUR day), and I was torn between being so happy he wasn't on the streets, and being so scared and worried as to WHY. Said a few prayers that night.  
Michelle- Not pathetic! And thank you so very, very much!!  
RabidFrodo- Oh! Thank you!! And I'll check out JamTherapy for sure!!

* * *

There was a loud pounding on the door to her apartment, and she groaned, climbing out of bed and rubbing her eyes. She raced to the door, as fast as she could race halfway dead with sleep, and opened it, smiling. "Hi," she said, but when the door opened to reveal the UPS man standing there, her smile faded lightly. "Um, hi."

"Hi, Ms. Beesly?" he said, handing her a small package and a clipboard to sign for. "Just sign right here."

She grabbed the pen, signing her name and taking the package from him. "Thanks, have a good day," she said, looking in the upper left corner to see no return address. She sighed, ripping over the package and peering inside. She reached her hand inside, pulling out a videotape. She peered at it for a minute, before reaching her hand back into the envelope and pulling out a piece of paper. She read the note to herself.

_Pam, Hope you rocked the All-American girl look when the UPS guy came to deliver you your porno. I'll see you tonight. –the boyfriend_

She laughed, pausing in the living room and staring at the videotape, wondering if she should put it in the VCR and risk that it might, in fact, be a porno. Then she looked back at the videotape, the letter, and shook her head lightly. _Yeah, your boyfriend Jim is going to send you a porno… Why, Pam?_

She headed over to the VCR, popping the tape in, and grabbed the remote, turning on the TV cautiously. She laughed when she heard a little voice pipe up, "im gonna be pwesident." She laughed as she saw Jim's little three-year-old body outside the bathtub, stripped naked. _Oh, this is some kind of porno_.

"After your bath," his mom said, and Pam covered her mouth laughing when she saw the great 70s hairdo his mom had. "Get in, Jimmy." His mom turned around, calling for Alan, and Pam watched as Jim stuck his tongue out at the camera, making a classic Jim face.

"James, stop that," a stern, fatherly voice said, and Jim automatically returned his face to normal and stepped into the water. He sat down quickly, water splashing everywhere, and his mother shrieked. He grinned.

"Sawwy mommy," he said, slapping his hands against the water, the water splashing outside of the tub. "Come on Awan! It baf time!" Pam giggled, listening to his little falsetto voice and the way he couldn't pronounce his rs or his ls. She grinned as he turned to the camera, making funny faces and sticking his tongue out, and at one point, she stuck her tongue out right back at him. Alan quickly got into the tub, and she watched them play with boats for a while before Jim leaned over the bathtub and whispered to his mom, "Mommy?"

"Yes, Jimmy?" she said, looking at him.

He smiled real big, "will you mawwy me?"

She laughed. "Oh, I would love to marry you sweetheart," she said, ruffling his wet hair, "but I'm already married to daddy."

"So who am I gonna mawwy?" he asked, and she looked at him for a minute.

"One day," she smiled, touching his nose, "when you're a lot bigger and a lot, lot older, you're gonna find a girl that's you're gonna fall in love with. And that's the girl you're gonna marry."

"Will she be pretty like you?" Jim asked, and Pam could see his mother laughing.

"She'll be the most beautiful girl in the world," his mom said, and Jim thought for a moment, his finger on his chin.

"Mommy, it's alright if she isn't. I'm still gonna love her." He said, turning back to the water and playing with the boats again and running them over the water. She watched as they played in the bathtub, but her mind was a million places away. _Why did he send this to me? What is he trying to tell me? How cute was that little butt?_ And then she remembered back to Friday afternoon.

Michael had opened the door, revealing to the office the new customer service girl they'd hired out of college. Pam really didn't understand why they'd needed to hire someone new, but they had. Kelly was leaning over reception, telling Pam all about her Netflix queue when Michael corralled the new girl in. Pam looked her over; she was gorgeous. Long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a smile that was infectious. "This is Brittany… She's our Miss America here, wow," he said, looking her over. Brittany bit her lip, giggling more out of nervousness than flattery. "And this is Kelly, our Miss India," Michael said, gesturing to Kelly, who gave him a funny look. Pam looked up at Michael, waiting for her introduction, and then, "Oh, this is Pam…" he said, "I guess you could call her our resident bag lady."

She wasn't one that normally let things Michael said get to her, but this was one thing she couldn't let go of. Bag lady? _God, am I that hideous looking?_ She bit her lip, reminding herself of that moment, tears gathering in her eyes. _God, why am I letting this get to me?_ She picked up the remote, replaying the tape again, watching little Jim as he said "it's alright if she isn't. I'll still love her." She rewound it six times, watching his face, hearing his voice.

She could feel the tears on her cheeks by the third time she'd watched him, the words of Michael colliding with the words of little Jim in her mind, making her question everything. She'd never believed she was a beautiful girl, but she certainly thought she was prettier than he'd made her out to be… She certainly wasn't a bag lady, was she?

She picked up her phone, her fingers shakily dialing the numbers. She held the phone away from her ear, staring at it, hearing the ringing as if it was some faint and distant world. She was jolted out of her daydreams by his voice, deep and different than the high falsetto she'd just heard on the video. "Hi beautiful," he said, and she couldn't help but squint at the phone, wondering whether she should smile or cry.

"Hi," her voice was shaky.

"Do you know why I sent you that video?" he asked, and she shook her head lightly.

"Because you promised me a celebrity sex tape months ago?" she quipped, a waver still in her voice.

"That…" he replied, and she smiled despite herself. "And because I wanted you to see that it doesn't matter to me if you're our 'resident bag lady' or Miss Universe, I'm still here."

She nodded, "that's good to know."

He was silent for a moment, before he continued. "And just in case you were wondering, you're a hell of a lot closer to Miss Universe than you'll ever be to resident bag lady." She smiled, feeling the butterflies in her stomach take to flight once again. "I'll see you in an hour." And the call went dead.

* * *

She had one leg in the pants of her jeans and one leg out when her cell phone shrilled on the night stand. She groaned, hopping on one foot over to it, trying to keep her jeans on, or at least keep them from tripping her on her way over to the phone, She pulled them up, glancing at the ID, and picked up the phone, buttoning the last hole before pressing _talk_ and bringing it to her ear. "Hi mom," she said cheerfully.

"Hi baby, what are you doing?" her mom asked, and Pam could tell by the first word that this was going to be one of those _dish all_ conversations that were more common among best friends than mothers and daughters.

"Getting ready for my date," Pam said coyly…

"Your date with your _boyfriend?_" Ellen asked, and Pam giggled softly. "Do you have any idea where you two are going today?"

"None," she smiled. "The letter is V, so I can only imagine what the man has up his sleeve." She paused for a minute. "I've been racking my brain and I can't think of anything that starts with V."

Ellen laughed, "Well, maybe you should just enjoy it, then… You know, take it as it comes?"

"I think I'm going to," Pam said. "Oh, hold on, I'm going to put you on speaker phone so I can finish getting dressed." She pressed the little button for speaker and laid it on her bed, "Okay, sorry." She lifted her shirt over her head, looking in her closet.

"So, you never really told me what happened with you two last week. I mean, you called me breathless Saturday night to tell me about you two getting together, but I have no idea what happened."

She smiled, pulling the orange sweater all the way down to cover her torso and jumped on her bed, her back on the comforter, grinning. She spoke to the ceiling, "Well, mom, I woke up that morning, and I was just so anxious to see him… I can't really explain it, it was just like… I wanted to be near him and there wasn't anything else I wanted other than that… Not even my bagel…"

Her mother laughed. "Okay."

"So I called him, and I didn't even wait a few minutes like I normally do, I just sat up in bed and called him. And I knew it was like 7 AM, but I didn't care because I just wanted to hear his voice… So I went over to his house and we talked for a little bit, and then we went and got coffee, and I told him about the job interview…"

"Oh, yeah, how did that go anyway?" Ellen asked, and Pam smiled.

"Good, I think… I'll hear back Monday." She paused. "But mom, he was just so supportive, and very _I think you should do it_ and it was just so… it just… it made me feel so good and I can't really describe it, and we just sat and talked, and about big stuff. You know? Like, we've always been able to talk about the little stuff, but the big stuff has always been a problem. But we were sitting there, talking about work and exes and dreams and he wasn't shying away from anything and neither was I and it was just so good."

"Good, baby, you should be able to talk about that kind of stuff with him," Ellen's voice was so calm, yet excited; it almost made Pam giggle.

"So, he took me to a hockey game."

"No!" Ellen shrieked, and Pam laughed. "How did he get you into a hockey arena? I don't believe that."

"He was just so… I don't know, I just trusted him for some reason. So he explained it all to me and he took me there, and he was just so good about it… I mean, I never felt left out or weird or anything. I actually liked it."

Ellen smiled, "Well, you are your father's daughter." Pam laughed, remembering how much her dad loved sports.

"But mom, the real thing was I saw Hank again."

"Hank?" her mom asked.

"Yeah, from the shelter. I told you about him. The one with the daughter who told me that I had to go after Jim?"

"Oh, yes, Hank! You saw him?" she asked.

"Yeah, he was at the game because he got a job and he's doing well now, I had lunch with him this week actually, but we talked about me and Jim and he said this really profound thing to me, Mom, and it just got me thinking about what I want and what I can have and…"

"What did he say, honey?"

"He said that if we get too comfortable somewhere, we'll never change… That we have to be uncomfortable to change, and I started thinking about it, and everything I was afraid of with Jim… and how I was afraid it would be the same thing it was with Roy, and all of a sudden it was like I really realized that Roy isn't Jim… and that because of that… because Jim's someone totally and completely different, our relationship can't be the same as Roy's and I's was… and I remembered how I felt that morning.. You know, like part of me was gone and I had to get it back right away, and I just realized…"

"Realized what?" Ellen asked excitedly.

"I want to be with Jim," she said softly. "And I don't mean like I want to walk and hold his hand at the movie theaters… I mean I really, really want to be with him. In that way that couples always talk about where it just feels so miserable without the other person… Not that I'm miserable without him, it just doesn't feel... I don't know. It doesn't feel right unless he's there… And god, isn't that all anyone wants?"

Ellen smiled, listening to her daughter ramble. "Sounds like you had quite the revelation."

Pam smiled, laughing lightly, "so I told him everything I was feeling, and I told him I was ready, and he was so cute Mom because he was so trying to play it cool like he wasn't excited because he wanted to be sure he knew what I was talking about, but he was so out of his mind excited and it was adorable… and I kissed him, and this time, it just felt so right… So good. You know? And more than just in the lusty kissy way it normally feels like… I just, I can't explain it Mom," Pam giggled.

Pam could hear her mom's smiles, even through the near silence on the other end. "I'm so happy for you, Pam," her mom said, and Pam knew that even though it was the line everyone said anytime someone got together, or engaged, or married… It was real. It just felt real. And she wondered if that was something that came when you found the person you were supposed to be with. If maybe that's why it was awkward all the other times. She shrugged; she wasn't sure.

"Mom? Do you want to know what he did today?" she asked, sitting up and grabbing the phone, taking it off speaker phone and pressing it to her ears. "It's so adorable, Mom."

"What did he do?" she asked, and Pam smiled, grabbing a scarf from one of the drawers in her room.

"Okay, well, on Friday Michael said something to me about how I looked like a 'bag lady'," Pam started, and she could hear her mother gasp, "and I guess Jim overheard it. I mean, I tried to brush it off, and I didn't let him know I was upset or anything, but I guess he just figured I was upset, so do you know what he did?"

"What?" Ellen asked.

"He sent me a video this morning of him in the bathtub when he was three. And in this video, he proposed to his mom, which by the way, was the cutest thing in the world, and when she turned him down for his daddy, they started talking about the girl Jim was going to marry, and his mom told him that the girl would be this beautiful girl he would fall in love with and marry when he was a lot older."

"Uh huh," Ellen said.

"And he told her that even if she wasn't the most beautiful girl in the world, he would still love her," Pam gushed, and she could hear her mother _aww_ in the background. "And then when I called him this morning, he told me that I was beautiful, and he said I was so much closer to Miss Universe than I ever was or ever will be to bag lady."

"Oh, Pam," Ellen said, and her voice was light and breathy. "Are you sure you don't want to marry your father like you did when you were little? I wouldn't mind having a Jim of my own."

Pam laughed, "I'll keep mine, thanks," she said. "Mom, it just feels so…"

"I know," Ellen said, smiling. Pam wrapped the scarf around her neck and pulled out a pair of socks, slipping them on her feet. "I was really impressed with him," Ellen said, as Pam tied a pair of brown sneakers on her feet. "You can tell he really cares for you."

"Really?" Pam asked, smiling.

"Yes," Ellen said. "When we went out to dinner that night, the way he just intercepted your emotions and helped you and made you feel so validated. He really must love you."

"Oh, don't tell me that," Pam laughed, waving her hand in the air as she grabbed a khaki jacket to go over her outfit. "He hasn't said it. You don't get to be the first person to tell me he loves me."

She smiled. "Well, if you're going to play by that game, you better make sure he's the first person you tell when you're ready to admit how you feel about him."

"Mom," Pam scolded lightly. "He's my best friend and we've only been dating a week; we're not ready for that yet."

"Pam, you two have been dating for five months," Ellen said sternly. "You just acknowledged it a week ago."

Pam sighed, "yeah, you're probably right, but even so." The phone was silent for a moment, before Pam spoke up again. "So, I'm really nervous. I find out from the school Monday."

"Oh, well, how do you think the interview went?" Ellen asked.

"I think well," Pam said, slipping a necklace around her neck. "I mean, they asked me about curriculum and stuff like that, and I had a few answers but nothing great or anything… And they loved my art. I brought them some really different pieces so they could see a lot of my variety and stuff…" Pam said, trailing off before she thought of yet another thought. "And they said that even though I wasn't highly certified, it was something they could work around if they decided to hire me."

"What do you mean?" her mom asked, and Pam sighed.

"Okay, so apparently when you major in Education, the teaching certificate you get lasts for seven years, as long as you're actively teaching. But if you're like me, and you don't go teach, it only lasts for three, so you have to take the test again to be certified, and that test is only administered twice a semester, and the next one is in early December."

"Wow, that doesn't give you a lot of time, it's already almost November," Ellen said.

"I know," Pam replied. "So I'd take this teaching certificate test to see if I can become a teacher, and I have all of my old textbooks and stuff…. Remember, I kept them for no reason, but now I guess they'll come in handy. So, I'll take the test in December, and if I pass it, then I'm good. But I still have to take an education class at the college. They have this random class about technology in education that they didn't have when I went through school but it's now required… And so I'd have to take that one night a week from like 5-7, or I can just take a test that shows that I'm not technologically insufficient."

"You could probably do the test, though, couldn't you?" Her mom asked. "I mean, with all of the graphic designing and computer work you've had to do at Dunder Mifflin, I would think you'd pass it."

"Yeah, I'm going to try the test," Pam said. "Jim's sister teaches in the area, and he's going to ask her what programs I need to know and stuff so I can use it and make sure I get it. Hopefully that will work."

"Okay, so then what else?"

"Well, every first year teacher has to take a class their first semester about grading and student interactions and experiences and curriculum and all sorts of stuff. It's really a long, long process, but it's apparently really helped teachers throughout the county. So it wouldn't be too bad. And that's Wednesday nights from 5-7."

"Wow, that sounds like a busy life," Ellen said, and Pam nodded. "You sure you want to take all of that on?"

"Yeah, I really think so, Mom… I mean, yeah, it's a lot of work, but it would be so rewarding and so great, and I'd get to do art and… yeah, definitely."

Ellen smiled. "Okay, tell me more about the great perks of this job teaching snot nosed children how to be creative."

Pam laughed. "They're high schoolers, Mom, I think they get the snot out of their noses by then." Ellen laughed, and Pam continued. "It's not great pay, but it's better than Dunder Mifflin, so that's always a plus. And it's got great health insurance and retirement benefits and all of that boring stuff we adults have to worry about. And I can go to art school in the summer and they'll pay for my classes."

"Wow, that sounds like a good deal. What do you do about the summers anyway?" she asked.

"Well, I was thinking about that," Pam said, chewing on her lip lightly. "I'd have art school, hopefully. And the county takes a percentage of your paycheck every month and puts it into your summer paycheck, so you still get paid in the summer… But I could do an art camp or something like that. A lot of jobs open up around here in the summer anyway, with all the college kids going home and stuff."

"Okay, well, let's see… What are the negatives about this job, sweetie?" Ellen asked. "We can't just have on rose colored glasses."

"Negatives, okay… We only get paid once a month, and that sucks. I would be new there, so there's the possibility I'd be eaten alive the first few months… And I wouldn't know any friends or anything… Jim doesn't work there, so I don't have that much eye candy," she laughed. "Mom, basically the only real negative is that it's a new experience and it's away from my comfort zone, but that's kind of what I want right now."

Ellen nodded, "and you think you and Jim will be able to sort it all out?"

Pam was silent for a moment, before she spoke up, "yeah, Mom, I really do… I think we've gotten to the place where we're willing to drop other things to be with each other, and we're willing to make sacrifices… and I think it's just one of those things that needs to happen.. I don't have any worries for us." Pam thought about her answer for a moment, realizing how right she truly believed she was. "So, what do you think, Mom?"

"About what?" Ellen asked.

"The job."

Ellen paused for a moment, "What do I think? What do you mean?"

"Just tell me what you think about it," Pam replied.

"I think if it's given to you, you should seriously consider it. I think you'd be great at it, and I think it would be great for you. I just don't want to see you and Jim fall apart, but if you're sure that won't happen, then go for it."

"It won't happen," Pam said softly. "And if it did, that would be a bad sign, anyways."

Ellen smiled, "so, did I tell you what your dad did to the dishwasher the other day?"

"Oh god, now what?" Pam asked, twirling her hair in her finger and looking out the window. She knew she was looking out twenty minutes early, but she couldn't help it.

* * *

He opened the car door for her, and she got out quickly, smiling up at him. "I didn't realize you would be opening the door for me, I would have worn one of those short little dresses and made my legs shiny so they blinded you."

He laughed, "whatever." She grinned, shutting the door behind her as he took her hand in his, carrying a small basket with him. "How long has it been since you've actually played on a playground?" he asked.

She laughed. "Years, probably. When I was little, back in the day," she said, rolling her eyes, "the elementary school actually didn't have a playground. The only playground was this one, so it must have been on random occasions throughout school. I think my mom brought us here every day when we were really little, though."

"She had to have," he replied. "Having you, Diana and Amanda all running around in the house would be torture." She smiled, and he laughed, setting the picnic basket down on a bench and taking her hand, running toward the swings. "I'm surprised there are no kids here today."

"Yeah, I don't know what that's about," she said, sitting on the swing. She waited until he was on the one next to her before she swung in the air, pumping her legs to propel herself off the ground. "So, I have a question to ask you."

"Okay," he said, pumping higher, grinning at her.

"Since you're my boyfriend, that means you're pretty much obligated to be my date to anything, right?"

"I'd say so," he replied, and she pumped higher, trying to surpass him in height.

"Okay, well there's this wedding I kind of need to be at in two weeks…" she said, and he looked over at her. "It's on this ship off the coast, and it's going to be really cold, but I want to go, and I need a date."

"Oh?" He asked. "Who's getting married?"

"My best friend's grandma," she replied. "He's in the wedding, otherwise I'd just invite him."

He gave her a funny look as she went soaring above him, "I don't know if I want you even thinking about inviting another guy to the wedding," he said, scowling at her.

She smiled, "I just thought…"

He sighed, "Pam, what am I going to do with you?"

She bit her lip, looking down at her lap, trying to keep the huge smile that was threatening to take over her face from doing so. "Well, will you come?"

"Sure, I'd love to be your date to your best friend's grandmother's wedding," he replied, and she smiled, laughing as she went high up in the air again. "I have a question for you, though."

"Okay," she said.

"Would you mind helping me find someone to accompany me to my grandmother's wedding in two weeks? My family's going to be there, and you know, I don't want to bring just _any_ girl," he said, and she smiled.

"Are we going to jump off these things?" she asked, and he nodded. She smiled, "Okay, so you don't want to bring just _any_ girl… Any specific things you want included in this date choice of yours?"

"1," Jim said, counting, "2, 3!" they jumped off the swings, hitting the ground with a thud as they rolled towards each other. She collided into him before bouncing back off him, and he rolled on his back, looking up in the sky. She mimicked his position, and they laid on the ground, side by side, staring up into the sky. "Well," he said, laughing. "I really want this girl to be quality… amazing, you know? The kind that my mom will be impressed with."

"Okay," she giggled. "What would that include, then?"

"Well, she's gotta be smart… You know, know the difference between who and whom and that kinda thing… And know that _mall_ starts with _m_ and _the _starts with _t_… She's got to be funny, you know, Mom wants me to have a girl that can prank people every now and then and can make fun of me when I'm being an idiot."

"Well, that's important," Pam smiled. "What else?"

"Smart, funny, hopefully she'll have a great imagination… She's gotta be able to go with the flow every now and then and just do something, even if she doesn't want to. You know, sacrifice a little bit sometimes… And she's gotta be the type of girl that if a friend called her crying at 2 AM, she'd not only listen but she'd get in her car and drive over there…"

"You must be dreaming," Pam whispered. "What else?"

"You know, be compassionate and loving to people… Show affection every now and then, but not all the time. Be independent, but not so independent that she's not with me… That's important… A dreamer, but realistic too."

"Hmm, all of those are required traits?" she asked, looking up at the sky.

"Yes."

"Okay, so you require that your date is smart, funny, imaginative, flexible, sacrificial, big-hearted, affectionate, and independent." He was silent for a moment. "Okay, so what about the _preferable_ section? What's listed there?"

"Hmm," Jim said, his finger to his lips. "I would say, this girl should have honey blonde hair… Maybe green eyes, grey would work too. I'd like her to be pretty… maybe if she had a degree in Art Education or she liked chai teas over mochas that would be helpful. I'd like her to eat everything bagels, maybe some mixed berry yogurt, too.."

Pam smiled, turning to her side to look at him. He mimicked her, turning to face her. He reached out and touched her face softly. "You know, pretty much the most amazing girl in the world will do."

Pam laughed, "she might be hard to find."

"I don't think so," Jim said. "I hear she likes to frequent the Vassar Park playground."

Pam laughed, "oh does she? Well I don't see anyone that matches your date characteristics in the sandbox."

Jim looked over, smiling. "Yeah, me neither, but I see one on the ground by the swings."

"Oh yeah?" Pam asked, blushing lightly.

"Mmhmm, let's go through the checklist," he said. "Smart, check. Funny, check. Imaginative, double check. Flexible, sacrificial, check check. Big-hearted, check. Affectionate, check, Independent, definitely a check."

She smiled. "Well, all of the requirements are out of the way. What about the preferables?"

"Honey blonde hair," he said, fingering it in his hands, "check. Green-grey eyes, check. Art Education degree, check. Chai teas, everything bagels, mixed berry yogurt, check check check."

She smiled. "You missed one."

"Pretty? Check."

"You missed another one," she whispered softly, looking at him.

"Most amazing girl in the world?" he asked, and she looked at him, shrugging lightly. "Check."

She smiled at him, leaning closer. "Sounds like you found your girl."

"Oh good, I was getting worried," he said, kissing her softly. She smiled at him, and he continued. "Think my girl might be interested in going to the wedding with me?"

"I don't know, you might have to ask her," Pam said.

"Pam, will you go grandma's wedding with me?" he asked, grinning.

"Of course I will," she replied, laughing. He smiled, kissed her forehead and stood up, offering his hand to her. She stood up, wiping the various pieces of playground off her back and butt before he dragged her over to the see-saws. She grinned, climbing on one and he climbed on the other, launching her into the air. She held on tightly. "I haven't been on one of these in forever," she laughed.

"I know. Ready to teeter?" he said, pushing his legs up in the air so he was in the top. She grinned, not giving him any benefit of staying in the air because as soon as she hit the bottom, she pushed herself back into the air, sending him to the ground. "Hey!" he said, laughing.

She giggled. "Hey, at least I didn't jump off and send you crashing to the ground."

"God, that hurts," he said, looking around. "That's just askin' for the little man to be injured."

"The little man?" Pam grinned, jumping in her seat to push herself down. "You're not inspiring much confidence, calling him the little man." Jim made an 'o' face, and she laughed.

"Pam, this is a playground!"

"You brought it up," she contested, and he laughed, shaking his head. "Teeter-Totter," she said in a sing song voice, then clasped her hand over her mouth, giggling. "I don't know why I just sang that."

"Nobody does," he replied, and she stuck her tongue out at him, laughing. "So, tell me a Beesly story."

"A Beesly story?" she questioned, and he nodded. "What kind of Beesly story?"

He grinned. "If I were to sit at the family dinner table, and the object was to embarrass Pammy, what story would I hear?"

"Oh, don't call me Pammy," she laughed, her face red. "I hate that nickname."

"I know you do, now fess up with your story," he said, and she laughed.

She smiled. "I blew up the VCR when I was three."

"What?" he asked, laughing. "How?"

"I put my crayons inside it and pressed play," she shrugged. "Then it exploded."

"Oh my god, Pam, that's…." he tried to think of the right word, but he couldn't. "Awesome. Seriously."

She smiled. "I was a very mischievous little kid. Extremely independent and stubborn," she laughed, and he nodded.

"Good to know," he said. "You know what they say?"

"No, what do they say?" she asked.

"If you're a hellion as a child you'll get a hellion when you reproduce."

"Well crap," she said, and he laughed. "This teeter-totter is hurting my butt. Can we go on the jungle gym or something, please?"

"Sure," he said, hopping off.

"Jim!" she yelled as she went crashing to the ground. "Ow! That hurt."

He turned around, "oh, sorry…" he said, his face falling lightly. "I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay," she said, climbing on the jungle gym. "I'll race you to the top!" she screamed and he laughed, pulling himself up and chasing her. She climbed up, and he passed her quickly, his long legs pulling him upward faster than she could climb. The gym was high in the air, a smaller one built on top of a huge one, the spaces between each bar further and further apart the higher you climbed. At the top was a little place for kids to sit and look down, and Pam couldn't wait to sit up at the top, looking down at the world with Jim.

She climbed faster, gripping the bars and moving her feet up. She could almost reach the bottom of Jim's foot, and she grinned, reaching for it to pull on when she felt herself spiraling downward between the gaps of the bars. "Jim!" she yelled, crashing to the ground, her arm throbbing. "Ow," she said, pulling herself into the fetal position, clutching her arm.

She felt the ground shake under her as Jim jumped down, rushing to her side, "Pam, are you okay?" he said, pushing her hair out of her face.

"It hurts," she said, tears running down her face. "I think it's brooooken," she sobbed. He rubbed her back, and she kept crying, clutching her arm close to her body. He looked at it, acutely aware that it wasn't broken, but knowing it probably hurt her all the same. She had a slight scrape on her face from hitting the ground under her, and he couldn't help but look at her with a broken heart.

"Come here," he said, pulling her into his arms, being careful not to touch her hurt arm. He patted her hair for a minute, before standing up, helping her up with her other arm. He helped her out of the jungle gym, her cheeks still stained with tears, and then picked her up in his arms, carrying her like a three-year-old over to the bench where their lunch was. She sighed, putting her head on his shoulder and was quiet, and he stroked her hair softly. "You okay?"

She shook her head against his shoulder, and he patted her head again. "Think we need to amputate that arm?" She shook her head lightly, stifling a giggle. "Should I get my wand? I hear there's a special spell that can turn bad arms into good arms," he said softly into her ear, and she smiled against his shoulder, wiping her tears against his chest. "Okay, Army McArmerston, let's get to battle," Jim said, and she laughed, her head coming off his shoulder to stare him in the eye.

"Army McArmerston?" she giggled, and he grinned.

"Well, you know," he replied, laughing as he set her down on the ground. She pouted, and he responded to her pout, "I'm going to lay out the blanket, then I'll hold you again, I promise." She watched as he laid grandma's quilt on the ground, and then put the picnic basket in the corner, smiling at her. He sat down, pouting up at her. "Hey, what are you waiting for?"

She smiled, sitting down next to him, holding her arm close. He put his hands on her hips, pulling her into his lap, and smiled. "For someone who wants to be held you sure do sit far away." She laughed, settling against him.

"Does that knock me off the perfect wedding date scale?"

"Of course not," he said, grinning. "I mean, I don't want my date wrecking my game, you know?"

"What game?" she grinned, and he laughed, reaching for the cooler and pulling out two sandwiches, handing her one. "What are in these?"

"Liver and Onions," he replied, and she rolled her eyes. "And mayonnaise." She rolled her eyes, again, smacking him playfully with her 'bad' arm.

He looked at her, eyes wide. "What?" she asked, taking a bite of her sandwich.

"How's that arm?" he said, picking it up in his hand. Her eyes went wide and she bit her lip, cocking her head to the side. "Still _broken_?"

She bit her lip again. "I guess I…" He raised his eyebrows. "Okay, so it didn't really hurt all that bad," she said softly, burying her face in his chest. "I just wanted…"

"You just wanted me to hold you," he said, laughing, wrapping his arms around her. She nodded against his chest, and he laughed. "You know, you are very affectionate lately."

She pulled away lightly. "I'm sorry," she said, trying to climb out of his arms, but he pulled her back.

"Don't be sorry, I like it," he said, wrapping his arms tighter around her.

"I thought it ruined your game," she teased, taking a few more bites of her sandwich. He laughed, reveling in how good it felt just to hold her.

"Are you getting nervous?" he asked. She looked down at her thigh quickly, and he laughed. "What?"

"You never heard of that game?" she asked, blushing. He shook his head no, but gave her a _tell me now_ look. She blushed, looking down. "It was this game we played in like middle school where you'd start with your hand down here," she rested it right above his knee, "and slowly inch your way up, asking if someone was nervous until he finally admitted it."

"Man," Jim asked, "who was the winner?"

"I don't know," Pam said. "I was too scared to play." He smiled, watching as she took another bite.

"So, are you?"

"Am I what?" she asked, her mouth half full.

"Nervous?" he asked. "About Monday?"

"Kind of," she replied, reaching into the cooler and picking out a box of apple juice. She stuck her straw in it, taking a sip of it, "I mean, I'm anxious to know what my future will be like," she giggled, as if suddenly realizing how much it could all change. "But I wouldn't say nervous. I mean, if I get it, I get it, right?"

"Right," Jim said, and she smiled. "I think you'll get it. If you don't, there won't be many aspiring artists at Scranton High."

She smiled, "thanks, Jim." She took another sip. "You've been really supportive. I really appreciate it."

He put his sandwich crust on the quilt, leaning back lightly. "Well, I think you deserve it. And, I want you to get it, so," he shrugged. "not that hard."

She smiled. "Won't you miss me?"

"Neah, I've got Dwight to keep me company," he said, taking a sip of his apple juice. She rolled her eyes.

"Jim, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

He laughed. "When I grow up?"

"Well, you're not going to be a paper salesman forever, right? What do you want to do? You know?"

"Hmm," he said, pondering. "Well, I can't play the guitar, or else I'd want to be a musician." She smiled. "But I guess, if I could do anything, I'd be a game show host."

"A game show host?" she asked, laughing.

"Yeah, like Bob Barker. I always thought he was really cool."

She laughed. "The suits are really fashionable… You'd look great in 70s purple suits."

He grinned. "I know. I mean, who wouldn't?" She giggled, and he could feel her body shaking lightly from all the laughter.

"No, but really." She said.

"You're serious about this, huh?" he asked, and she glared at him, telling him with her eyes that she was sick of the joking. "Okay, well, I like sales. I'm good at it."

"You are," she said. "That's my point."

"What's your point?"

"Jim, you're a great salesman. And you're selling _paper_," she said. "I know you… You can sell much cooler, hipper things than that."

"Like cupcake couriers and other QVCesque items?" he asked.

"No, like, I don't know. I don't know what's good to sell, I just know it's not paper," she said. He sighed. "Come on, Jim, if you could do anything, what would you want to do?"

"I'm happy where I am right now," he said.

"Why? Why would you ever be happy selling paper at a failing company?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Because you're there."

She smiled, turning toward him. "I can't be the only thing that makes you happy, Jim. You can't put that kind of pressure on me," she said. "I…" she paused, thinking. "I'm not trying to scold you or… whatever," she was flipping her hands in the air, "I just... you've really pursued me these past few months and really gone after me, and I wish you did that with things other than just me…"

He nodded, and she watched him for a moment before he spoke up. "I haven't really thought of it. You know, what else I could do…"

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said thoughtfully. "I think one day I'd like to run my own business."

"Oh yeah?" she asked. "What kind of a business?"

"I don't know," he laughed. "Something to do with sports. I thought about being a sportswriter a long time ago, did I ever tell you that?"

"No, you didn't," she said, smiling. "Do you still want to do that?"

"Eh," he said, taking another sip of his apple juice. "I don't think so. I mean, it was one of those high school visions you get where you think it's more than it is. I took a real journalism class in college and hated it. You know, not enough articles on fashion," he said, winking.

"The manly man," Pam said, laughing. "What kind of business stuff could you do with sports? I don't even know."

"PR, Advertising, Inventory, Marketing, Writing…" he trailed off. "It's all pretty much the same, just at different venues."

"What kind of stuff would you do there?" she asked. "You'd be really good at marketing stuff."

"Okay, so, say there's this big sports manufacturer in Philadelphia," he starts, his eyes lighting up lightly, and she can tell this isn't the first time he's had this thought. "And they're pretty big name, and so they ship their products out to all of these other stores all across the country…"

"Right," Pam said, nodding, a smile on her lips.

"So, the marketing guy would be in charge of calling all of the companies they ship to and keeping ties close... bringing on new clients, you know, that kind of thing."

Pam nodded, "you would do well at that, you know?"

"You think?" he asked, skeptical.

"Yeah, and it sounds like you've thought about this scenario a lot," she said, smiling. "Why don't you go for it? Look around, at least?"

"Maybe," he said, shrugging.

She turned around, silent, watching as a few kids ran over to the playground, laughing and giggling. "Jim," she said, a moment later. "Can I make you a deal?"

"A deal?" he asked, and she turned back to look at him.

"Yes, a deal," she said.

"What kind of a deal?"

"Well, you really want me to take this art job if I get it, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, of course I do," he said, looking at her skeptically.

"If I'm offered the job, I'll take it," she said, and he smiled, wondering when she'd decided for sure that she'd leave if she got it. The past few days had been all excited talk, but when it had finally come down to it, she still 'wasn't sure'. To hear her say she'd take it if she got it, well, he'd give anything to ensure that.

"Okay, what's my part," he said, smiling. _If she gets that job, yeah, I'll miss her, but my god, this is an awesome opportunity for her._

"If I leave," she said, "and I'm going to leave eventually. Even if I don't get this job, at some point, I'm going to find something else," she said, and his heart soared inside hearing her. "When I leave Dunder Mifflin, you need to look for something else. Something that will make you happier. The sports thing, or if that's not what you decide you really want, whatever it is you do want. Heck, a game show host if that's what you decide you really want. Just don't stay there," she said, looking up at him, her eyes fierce but her face soft.

He watched her for a moment, his mind reeling. _Well, it's not like there'd be anything left for me when she left… It's just… Scary. But she knows that. Pam knows that, and she'll be there to make sure I hold up my end of the deal. Yeah, I can do this…_ "Deal," he said softly. She looked at him, surprised.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," he laughed. "When you leave, I'll start looking for something else."

"Seriously looking. With an intent to leave," she clarified, and he nodded.

"I understand," he said softly, touching her hair. "We're a package deal, I got it."

"What?" she laughed.

"Nothing, don't worry about it," he said, laughing. "Question: When you get this job on Monday, are you going to come home and help me look for my new one?"

"Fact: Yes," she replied, and he laughed. "I'm sorry, you just sounded so much like Dwight I had to…"

"You suck," he said, laughing.

"You suck," she retorted, and he rolled his eyes. She smiled. "Can I ask you something?

"You are so full of questions today," he smiled. "One more couldn't hurt, could it?"

She smiled. "When did you know?"

"Know what?" he teased.

"About us. When did you know you wanted there to be an us?"

"You mean when did I know I _liked_ you?" he asked, and she smiled.

"It just sounds so juvenile when you put it like that," she giggled.

He laughed. "It was basically the minute I walked in the door. I walked in, saw you there at reception and thought 'damn, even the receptionist is hot'." She gave him a funny look, "joke," he clarified. She looked at him funny again, "You're hot, that's not a joke," he said, trying to work his way out of the doghouse, "but I didn't just ogle you the first day, though there was some ogling…"

"Okay, get serious. Tell me the story," she smiled.

"So I walk up to you, introduce myself, and you're pretty pleasant, like you normally are, but Michael designated you to do the tour, and I remember you took me all around the office and introduced me to everyone, and then last you introduced me to Dwight. Made some clever quip about him, but I remember thinking _I'm so glad she introduced me to him last._" He laughed. "You added an extra two minutes to my life, so thanks for that, by the way."

"No problem," she said.

"And then the first prank, well. That just sealed the deal," he said, laughing. "You remember that one?"

"It was pretty mild," she said, smiling. "We just kept putting Angela's cat post-its on Phyllis's desk until Angela was convinced Phyllis took them."

He laughed. "Yeah, and now Angela still hates Phyllis."

"We probably shouldn't have started with Phyllis," she said, smiling. He watched her for a moment, and then piped up.

"So, I have a question."

"I have an answer," she replied.

"Why are you so much more affectionate this week?" he asked, and as soon as he did, he felt under fire. She smiled.

"It's not a problem, is it?" she pouted and he rolled his eyes, looking away so he wouldn't fall victim to her trap. He shook his head, and he could feel the warmth from her smile, even without seeing it. "I guess I just figure we've wasted enough time..."

"I wouldn't call it a waste," Jim said. "We needed that time."

"We did," Pam said, yawning lightly. "But for the purpose of the being affectionate and touchy conversation, let's just say the time was wasted." She winked at him, laughing, and he smiled, kissing her once more, neither of them aware of the little kids that chorusing _eww_ from the monkey bars.

* * *

And that's that. 


	24. W is for Waiting

Let me just say… I'm so sorry this has taken so long

Let me just say… I'm so sorry this has taken so long. There is such a long, dramatic excuse for why this is so late, but basically it all boils down to: I wrote three chapters over Spring Break, procrastinated on putting them up because reviews take a long time (but I love doing them), tried to download Frogger, got a virus, and lost all of my files. So not only did I lose the REST OF THIS STORY, and the planning for this story, but all my school stuff and blahdy blah. All had to be redone and reworked, and I've been writing this in pieces, never fully satisfied until now. So I hope you love it and enjoy it.

And heads up. It'll be three weeks before X. And X is grandma's wedding. But hopefully this'll tie you over. This and new episodes of The Office. Sorry for the delay again—Finals are kicking my butt and I have five classes this semester. But my last day is like the 24th or something, so after that, this story gets my undivided attention. Let the count down begin!

And for those of you who like me to spoil you, I have two random behind the scenes facts. First off, Jenna was in the office tally chat room tonight. You can read the transcript at officetally. Second of all, the terrace thing that Pam says in the Boys and Girls episode is actually straight out of Jenna's real live childhood. She read the story about a terrace and put it in the episode :)

Reviews:

Mofo: Okay, like I said, I don't mind constructive criticism, but you're not giving me anything to work with here. You've got to point at specifics because otherwise, I don't see it. If you can't do that, then I suggest you stop reading this story, as it seems to only be pissing you off more.  
Tophetangel- W is not, but it will be a chapter! I promise. And cupcake couriers rock.  
Henantz- Aww thank you! I'm working on making it not end ;) haha. But I'm ready for it to be over, too!  
MrsBigTuna- Aww thank you. I'm glad you liked it, and hopefully I'll live up to the expectations of Grandma!  
PenguinPatrol- Aww thanks. I wait because it takes about an hour to respond to reviews, and I usually don't have that hour anywhere. And because I like to get criticism and reviews so I can tweak chapters if I need to :)  
SmallTuna- Hah aim glad it didn't irritate you that I wrote babies. Jungle gyms are horrible. One of my kids climbed to the top for the first time a few weeks ago and I nearly DIED.  
Kerber- Aww thank you! Here's one chapter closer to finito! :)  
Eaglechic- Aww, well hopefully this helped your THIS week too!!  
KT- Thanks! I love lil kid videos. And yeah, Pam's starting to let down her guard and be vulnerable and that's awesome. And I'm positive it doesn't.  
Squint- The VCR exploding my personal story. Yeah, I was a jerk. Haha.  
Dancer- Office is back on in what, like four days. SQUEE WITH DELIGHT.  
Yabberli- Cupcake couriers are freaking awesome. I got one for my brother this year fantastic. Toddler Jim would totall be adorable, and Spring Break is gone and over. But Summer break starts SOOOOOON. YAY.  
Maddikinz- Aww salivating over my story! Haha, thank you thank you! I'm glad you're learning to love it. It's hard to write it that way, but it's good and better for them, I think.  
Christine- It makes me happy too. :) And all of your answers are present in this chapter!  
Ruli- You're adorable. And thank you, seriously, that means so much. Haha little jim. I'm glad you like Michael's scene, I tried so hard to make him true to character.  
Brneyedgirl- Aw thank you! I haven't seen James since, but it's okay. I'm still praying for him and hoping he's safe and happy. And thank you so much about the writing—I'd love to write a book one day! I want to, I just don't know how to start it.  
Youngforeternity- Wow, thanks! I was totally debating NOT putting that part in, so I'm glad you loved it!  
Anon- Thank you!  
SpectacularSpects- Aww thanks. I prefer my angsty stuff too, but this isn't one of those stories I guess. Eventually I'll get back to one of those soon. Probably post-semester which is like 3 weeks away :)  
Logan130- Thanks so much! I normally update faster than this… sorry.  
ImpNo- AWW that was awesome. Thanks!!  
LovemesomeJam- Well I appreciate the late review. It got me to kick my butt in gear :) Here's W.  
ElizabethWeasly- Oh wow, thanks! Kids are great. Tis why I'm majoring in them and centering my life around them. W is for none of that.  
Anon- HAHA. You're great. W. Here it is.  
Lilly- Thank you! Thanks for the reminder, too. It keeps me on my toes.  
Michelle- Thanks so much for reviewing and reminding me to get my butt in gear with this. :) And thanks for being specific. I would love to pull such a thing too. :) W is not for grandma's wedding.

* * *

The alarm clock was ringing next to him, but he didn't move. His body hardly fit in his own bed; he always had to curl his legs just slightly so his ankles didn't rub against the sides of the bed. He was sure his hair was sticking up in every which way; he could smell his morning breath even with his mouth closed, and he was sure he stank in a way that would easily rival a skunk. But today, he didn't care.

He stayed there as the shrill noise continued, counting the number of beeps, wondering if alarms had a certain number before they just stopped. He'd never stopped to count before; he'd always become exasperated by the unpleasant sound and quickly hit the snooze button, and then promptly unplugged the whole thing. He couldn't be bothered with finding the power button at a time like this.

Today, though, was different. Today, he didn't care if his hair was all over the place, if he smelled like someone who had just been sleeping, or if his morning breath closely resembled a mixture of orange juice, spicy food, and bacteria. He had no one to dress up for; no one to brush his teeth for; no one to shower for. He would still do all of these things, but he wouldn't take the extra effort. Irish Spring was only going to stay in his hands for so long, and one trip with the comb was enough. Alan wouldn't care how he looked.

_He was sitting on his couch, the TV on and Sportscenter rolling, even though he didn't really much care about football or who was on their way to the Super Bowl. He was only half-watching; the other half of him was more focused on the buffalo chicken sandwich in front of him. He was entranced by it, for some reason, when the phone interrupted his concentration, making him jump. He quickly wiped his hands on his jeans and grabbed it, noticing the caller ID. He couldn't resist a good-natured prank._

_"Hi, you've reached Jim, leave a message," he said calmly, steadily into the phone, mimicking his voicemail._

_"Hi, it's me," she said, her voice soft and light. "I just wanted to talk to you. I got something in the mail and I… well, I think you already know what it is, but I wanted to…" He cut her off quickly with his laughter. "Jim?" she asked, and he could tell she was confused, perplexed and amused all at the same time._

_"Wow, Beesly," he said, grinning, "most people fall for the old 'hello' on the answering machine. I've never had anyone fall for the answering machine on the 'hello'."_

_She laughed. "Well, you sound just like yourself!"_

_"I am myself," he replied, and she laughed. He could see her cheeks turning red in his mind, her hand covering her mouth in embarrassment, her head shaking when she realized how ridiculous it was to recoil when he couldn't even see her. "How are you?"_

_"I'm good, but you know that already," Pam said, laughing. "I just talked to you like thirty minutes ago."_

_"I know," he said, sticking a fry in his mouth. "You can't resist the Halpert charm."_

_"Whatever," she laughed. "What are you eating? I can hear you smacking your food through the phone, and it's gross."_

_"Salad," Jim replied, taking a huge bite of his sandwich and smacking even louder._

_"Salad does not make sounds like that," Pam said._

_"How do you know? Maybe this salad does!" he protested. He chewed for a few more seconds, imaging her smiling lightly on the other end. "It's a buffalo chicken sandwich and fries."_

_"Yummy," she murmured._

_"It's all gone now." He said quickly, and she chuckled. "So, you were about to tell me about the sex tape you got in the mail?"_

_"No," she laughed._

_"The Hasbro toys magazine?"_

_"No!"_

_"Well, what else could possibly be so important?" he asked, chewing his sandwich. _

_"I got into art school," she said excitedly, and he let the piece of chicken fall out of his mouth and onto the floor._

_"Pam! That's great!" he exclaimed. "Which one? Where? When? Tell me all about it! I'm so proud of you!" _

_She smiled, "slow down, you." He laughed, "There's an Art Institute of Philadelphia, and I got accepted to this really great summer program there. And it's got really good credentials and stuff, and it's from the middle of June to early August, so if I got that teacher job…" She trailed off._

_"When you get the teacher job," he corrected._

_"…it would fit in just perfectly. I would just need to find a place to live, and I could probably afford the tuition and maybe I could find a summer job or something down there to help combat it. It just looks like a really great opportunity."_

_"So you're going to take it?" he asked, excitement in his voice._

_"Yeah, I think so," she said. "I mean, I haven't given it much thought, but my gut says to go for it."_

_"It sounds really great, Pam. I think you should go for it," he said, twiddling the fry in his thumb. "I didn't even know you'd applied for more schools."_

_"I didn't," she replied, and he gulped. "I think my boyfriend sent in the application for me," she said slowly, hanging on to every word. Caught._

_"Wow, that was nice of him."_

_She laughed. "It was. Thank you, Jim. I really appreciate it."_

_"Hey," he said, chewing on the bread from his sandwich and waving his hand in the air. "You got in; I just filled out the application."_

He picked up his phone to text her good morning, his fingers hitting each of the keys lightly as he typed out his message, wondering what all to say since he no longer had the filler of wheres and whens. He was just about to press the green phone that would send his message to her quickly, when he stopped himself, looking over at the clock. What was he thinking, trying to send her a good morning text at six thirty in the morning? He shouldn't wake her up. She deserved some beauty sleep, that was for sure. After all, he'd woken her up way too early yesterday morning. She needed to catch up.

_He only knew what time she woke up for work because she'd mentioned it to him one day while complaining about Roy. It had been years ago, and perhaps she had changed, but he held onto that time. He'd started setting his alarm clock to the same time, figuring that if he couldn't wake up beside her, he'd at least wake up with her. Today, though, he set his alarm thirty-five minutes early, enough time to shower and dress before he called her. Her alarm clock normally went off at 7:30, but today was a different day. At 7:29, he typed in the number two (one was voicemail), and hit the send button._

_On the second ring, he heard her exasperated voice. "Whaaaat?" she groaned, her voice becoming more muffled as she went on, and he knew she'd covered her face with her pillow._

_"Good morning sleeping beauty," he laughed, and she grunted. "It's time to wake up."_

_"No it's not," she muttered. "Alarm not go off."_

_"Okay, Tarzan," he laughed, and she sighed. "But you have a big day in front of you and…"_

_He was cut off by a, "shit!" and what sounded like a loud beeping noise in the background. It shut off abruptly, Pam's cursing intermittent with the beeps, and before long he heard her sigh back into the phone. "What?" she asked, exasperated again._

_He smiled. "I wanted to know if I could bring you breakfast."_

_"Really?" she asked, and he could hear the smile in her voice. Even without hearing it, the sound of her feet hitting the floor next to her convinced him that at least something had changed in her enthusiasm to get up. "That sounds great."_

_"Good," he said. "Just don't walk around your apartment naked."_

_"What?" she asked, laughing. "Why?"_

_"Cause I'll be there soon," he said. "I'll just let myself in, if you don't mind. You can take your shower and smell pretty and stuff."_

He'd gotten there only a few minutes later. He'd quickly made some eggs and cheese, toasted her bagel, and poured her glass of apple juice when she came out, her hair damp, a striped blouse on and a cardigan over her shoulders. He could feel himself staring, but he couldn't help it. There was something about the wet hair look that was so incredibly sexy to him—and it wasn't that he knew the way she got it was prancing around naked in her shower. It was something else.

_"What?" she asked timidly, crossing her arms over her chest as she sat down._

_"You're just really pretty," he said, setting her plate down in front of her._

_"Thank you," she said, neither of them knowing whether she was thanking him for the compliment or the plate. "Sit down?" He had, and they'd sat in silence as they ate breakfast. It wasn't an uncomfortable or a heavy silence; it was simply a silence._

_He got up to clear her dishes, and she smiled, watching him wash them from her place at the table. "So, what brings you over to bring me breakfast?"_

_"I just thought... you know, you have a big day coming up. We should start it off right," he said, fumbling over his words lightly. How did he tell her he really brought her breakfast because he thought that just in case things didn't go her way, she should at least have a breakfast worth remembering._

_"And?" she asked, smiling at him as he took a bite of his bagel. He cocked his head to the side, raised his eyebrows, and gave her a quizzical grin. "And you feel guilty for breaking our date for tomorrow, right?" she said, and he looked up at her, pouting lightly. She smiled, got out of her chair and walked over to him._

_"I'm not that upset about it," she said, sitting down in his lap and tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. He raised his eyebrows to look at her, and she smiled, kissing him on the lips softly. "Jim, I highly doubt our relationship is going to crumble to pieces because you can't take me out tomorrow." He nodded. "Besides I don't care when we go out or where you take me. I just want to be with you."_

_She picked up his bagel, taking a bite of it. They sat there for ten minutes, eating off the same bagel, her in his lap. He held her close until finally she announced it was time to go. "Will you be sitting like this at the office today?" he asked, looking at their position._

_"No," she laughed._

_"Then I'm not going," he replied, and she chuckled softly, patting his arm and hopping out of his lap._

They'd walked into work fifteen minutes late even though Pam had been insistent they be there on time, in case she missed the call of her life. He'd tried his best to reassure her time and time again that even if she did miss the call, they would leave a message, but she was paranoid and there was no consoling a paranoid woman. So instead he just listened, trying to drive a bit faster and clean his face a bit quicker than normal, but still, they were late. The whole way up the elevator she was talking about how sure she was that she'd missed the call, that they'd already called her to tell her they offered the position to someone else. He pointed out that if they'd already called this early in the morning, it was probably her job—after all, they always called the first choice first. However, when she got to her desk and there was no blinking light, he realized quickly that wasn't the best thing to have said.

_"See, I told you so," Jim said as Pam sunk into her chair, both of them staring at her phone._

_"Not helping," she sighed, putting her chin in her palm. She looked up at him as he grabbed a few jellybeans, popping one in his mouth._

_He smiled at her, patting her head softly, before doing his best impression. "Don't worry 'bout it," he said, winking as he walked over to his desk. She smiled, shaking her head lightly and sighed, looking at the clock. 9:15. Only seven hours, forty-five minutes to go._

* * *

She woke up around 8:30, feeling not tired, but not exactly awake, either. It wouldn't have been the worst thing in the world to get up at that time, but for some reason, she felt the need to roll over and sleep away some existence, and so she did. She woke up again at 10:14, and repeated the ordeal, before she finally truly got up around 11:20. She stayed sprawled in bed for only a minute before she launched herself forward, reaching for her toes and popping her back lightly.

She stepped out of bed slowly, rubbing her eyes and looking around the room. It felt strange to have so much free time on a Saturday. There were piles of dirty laundry in her closet, a few books and magazines on the floor, and a huge canvas drying in the middle of the wooden floors. She smiled, thinking of the day ahead of her. Laundry would be done and folded—she loved the smell of freshly done laundry, and the feeling of accomplishment once she'd done it. She'd pick up the floor, and then she'd go to work on the canvas, perhaps some soft music in the background as she worked. She had the whole afternoon to do hardly anything, and it seemed like somewhat of a treat.

She quickly picked up the white basket of clothes and carried them against her hip over to the washer, emptying them lightly. She turned the dial to cold water and poured in the soap, washing her hands under the water that ran before closing the lid and heading back to her room. She quickly picked up the magazines and tossed them into a basket in the side and picked up the dark laundry basket, carrying it over to the washer and setting it down beside it. She grabbed a bag of pizza rolls and microwaved a few, pouring herself a glass of juicy juice while she waited for the microwave to finish, and headed back into the laundry room, hopping on the top of the dryer to eat. She grinned, folding her legs in front of one another and swinging them lightly as she chewed, thinking back on the past few days.

Monday had been a day just like any other, really. She'd gotten to work and done her fair share of faxes, thinking often that her job could easily be reabsorbed by someone else. She'd answered a few phone calls, played a few games of Solitaire, and run down to the courthouse on her lunch break after getting the call for fingerprints in mid-morning. She'd been nervous the entire time, wondering if it was possible that she was convicted of being a sex offender without her knowledge. The principal at the school had assured her that they'd make a final decision by Friday, and from the moment she'd said so, Pam's palms had been sweaty and her mind had been counting down to one day, and one day only.

Jim had done his best to keep her mind off the seemingly impossible four day wait. He'd cooked her dinner and kept her company most nights, and on the nights he hadn't, he'd made sure to make plans for her regardless. He'd come over Monday and Wednesday, but she'd been preoccupied with her acceptance into an art school on Thursday, and on Tuesday he'd asked her to paint him something for his house. He'd gotten her the canvas and the paints and brushes before she'd even said yes, so when he asked, she had no excuses. She'd spent most of the night Tuesday planning it out, and throughout the week, she'd put on some background music and painted to the soft, yet vibrant melodies flowing out of her stereo. There wasn't much work left to do on the canvas after spending most of Tuesday night and a random half hour of the others on it. But there was enough left to fill her Saturday afternoon, that was for sure.

The worst part about waiting to find out about her job was the middle of it. Monday she could handle. She knew she had a while to go, and well, that was fine. And Thursday was fine because it was only a day from being done and resolved. But Tuesday and Wednesday were killer. The wait was almost unbearable. Of course, like always, Jim had found a way to make the days go just a little faster.

_She was playing Free Cell on her computer when she noticed his shadow as he reached for a few jellybeans. She smiled despite herself, her eyes focused on the screen. She knew his timing by heart. He'd stand there for a second, pretend to think as he slouched against her desk, pop one jelly bean into his mouth, and then deliver his clever one-liner. She knew he was just now popping the jellybean in, which meant…_

_"So, how would you like to meet our new employee?" he asked, right on cue._

_"What new employee?" she asked, looking up at him, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. Jim passed a red folder over the top of the desk to her, raising his eyebrows. She grabbed it secretly, bringing it down to her keyboard and opening it slowly._

_"Her name is Anita Mann," he said, as she read over the dossier, laughing silently, using her hand to cover her mouth. "And she needs Dwight."_

_"What's my assignment?" she asked, leafing through the pieces of paper. "Oh god, this is great," she said, pointing at a few random informational facts about Anita._

_"You'll see that Anita has her own email account with us," Jim started._

_"Well, naturally. She is an employee." Pam butted in._

_Jim pointed at her, nodding lightly, "exactly. She needs to get in contact with Dwight." He raised his eyebrows at her, and she grinned. "Work your magic, Beesly."_

_He took a few steps toward his desk, then backtracked, leaning down and whispering, "oh, and CC me on everything you send." She grinned, nodding, and he returned to his desk._

_A few hours later, she sent out the first email._

To: Dwight K. Schrute  
From: Anita Mann  
Subject: Outback Steakhouse

Dwight-

Call Jason from Outback. He had some inquiries. Actually, maybe it's just best you come to my office so I can tell you what's going on. This sale has to be executed perfectly.

-Anita

_Pam watched as Dwight's face contorted into confusion. He looked around the office slowly before quickly reaching into his desk and pulling out what looked to be the company manual. She watched as he flipped through the manual, scrolling down what she assumed was the company list, and then pounded his fists on the table. "Damn it," he said, loudly enough that Jim looked up, eyes wide before grinning at her. _

_Her inbox dinged suddenly, and she opened the email, reading silently._

To: Anita Mann  
From: Dwight K. Schrute  
Subject: Re: Outback Steakhouse

Which department are you located in?

To: Dwight K. Schrute  
From: Anita Mann  
Subject: Re: Re: Outback Steakhouse

Sales.

_Dwight scratched his forehead before leaning over to Jim and whispering harshly, "Jim!" Jim looked up, and Pam looked back down at her keyboard, eying them out of the corner of her eye. "Do you know where Anita Mann is?"_

_"Probably at her desk?" Jim replied, and Dwight looked around carefully before whispering back._

_"Where is her desk?" he asked slowly._

_"Sales," Jim said, standing up and walking to the copy machine. Dwight let out a grunt, looking around the office for someone else to help, but the only one that wasn't busy at the time was Angela, and he wasn't about to let her know of his insufficiencies. Pam watched as Dwight received a phone call, temporarily putting her prank on hold._

_It wasn't until lunchtime the next day that the prank resumed. Jim had collected more information on Anita, and Pam had done all she could to make her seem even more real, even pretending to transfer calls to her loud enough that Dwight could hear. At lunchtime, she and Jim sat at one of the tables in the kitchen, Oscar and Phyllis across from them, Michael at a table all alone (but begging everyone else to join him), and Kelly telling the vending machine about her latest problems with Ryan, when Dwight sauntered in._

_"Attention Inferior Workers!" he bellowed, looking over his shoulder to make sure Angela was nowhere in sight. "Does anyone know Anita Mann?" he asked, pronouncing her name solely._

_"Don't we all?" Kelly piped, a bit of a sob to her voice as she turned back to the vending machine, banging her head against it softly. Pam turned to Jim, her eyes widening as Jim mouthed an 'awesome' at her. She giggled._

_"Kelly, everyone, listen closely, this is very important," Dwight said again. "Does anyone know Anita Mann?"_

_"Dwight, that's just… that's gross," Michael said, a look of pure disgust on his face. "Just… leave that at home. That's gross."_

_"What?" Dwight asked. "Michael, I need to find Anita Mann. Do you know Anita Mann?"_

_"Dwight, that's just…" Michael shook his head in repulsion. "Go talk to… Oscar or Liberace or something…"_

_Dwight paused for a moment, opening the folder again, before turning back to Michael. "Question. Would Oscar know where to find…" he looked down at the paper, then back to Michael. "A. Mann?"_

_"Yes," Jim said quickly, louder than normal. "Yes, I think Oscar would know exactly where to find A. Mann for you."_

_"Really?" Dwight asked, opening the door and running down the hall toward Oscar's desk._

_They watched him head out of the room, giggling lightly to themselves. Dwight didn't hear from Anita Mann until later that afternoon, five minutes before it was time to leave._

To: Dwight K. Schrute

From: Anita Mann

Subject: Re: Re: Outback Steakhouse

Dwight—

I am extremely unimpressed by your inefficiency to call Jason from Outback. He called this afternoon complaining that you never got in touch with him, and to say the very least I am disappointed in your inadequacies. If you had problems pitching the sale, you should have come to me. Now, Dunder Mifflin has lost its biggest client. I will be calling David Wallace in the morning.

A. Mann

_Pam watched as Dwight put his head in his hands, before solemnly standing up and gathering his things, walking toward the exit. "Bye Dwight," she said softly. "Have a good night," but he only waved the back of his hand at her._

* * *

Jim sat in the car, yawning as he waited for Alan to pick up whatever it was he needed from the local Wal-mart. Even though he was fairly accustomed to Alan's "short stops" that ended up lasting about thirty minutes, he'd opted not to go inside, craving a small bit of time to himself. He loved Alan, really, he did. He just couldn't handle him very well in large doses.

As soon as Alan had gotten out of the car, Jim had pulled out his cell phone, texting Pam a 'good afternoon' text. He'd debated what to send her for a few minutes before finally deciding on just the plain, generic _good afternoon! Hope your day is well. Miss you. _She hadn't texted back in two minutes—she was normally a quick texter—so he tossed his cell phone in the cup holder and leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes.

He couldn't have been more proud of her than he was yesterday. The school had made her wait until three-thirty to find out she'd gotten the job, and when she'd gotten the call, they'd both known who it was before she even picked up. The phone had been ringing off the hook since they'd walked in early that morning, but this time, they both heard it differently. As soon as it rang, she jumped, and he looked up at her from where he was sitting. They'd locked eyes for a moment before he nodded at her, and she leaned down, picking up the phone. "Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam," she'd said so steadily it had made him smile.

_He turned back to his computer, watching her out of the corner of his eye. He knew he wasn't fooling her, and he wasn't trying to, really. He just knew how sensitive she was about letting their relationship known to everyone. He watched her twirl her hair around her fingers, a slight smile on her lips, and he'd assumed she'd gotten it. When he heard a small squeal coming from reception and looked over to see her eyes go wide and one hand go up to clamp over her mouth, he knew she'd gotten the job. She smiled at him softly and he winked, letting her finish her conversation before grabbing a folder and strolling up to reception to grab a few jellybeans, plopping a green one in his mouth in the time manner he'd become accustomed to._

_He didn't smile, but spoke in a calm and even voice. "Pam," he said, and she looked up at him, and he could tell she was biting the insides of her mouth to keep from smiling. "I need to see you, privately, please."_

_Pam looked behind him, watching Dwight's head shoot up as he eavesdropped over their conversation. "I... did I do something wrong?" she asked, nodding her head lightly._

_He leaned closer, whispering with an edge. "I'd prefer to talk to you in private. And I think you'd prefer to do so as well," and with that, he got up and walked out the door, not even bothering to hold it open for her. She followed him, biting her lip and shuffling her feet if only to keep from racing out the door after him. She followed him down to the end of the hall, expecting him to stop there, but he kept walking, and she kept following him, into the stairwell and down to the stairs between the 2__nd__ and 3__rd__ floor._

"_Is it private enough yet?" she asked, smiling to herself. He stopped, turning around to greet her, grinning. He raised his eyebrows, his hands in the air as he watched her face expectantly. "I got the job," she shrugged, smiling as he grinned back at her, stretching his arms out wide as she ran into them, hugging him tight. He smiled, patting her back._

"_I totally knew you'd get it," he said, and she laughed, kissing his cheek._

"_Go ahead," she sighed softly, laughing._

_He grinned. "I told ya so, Beesly."_

He smiled, thinking of how happy she'd been to get the job. They'd sat down on the steps and talked about the job and how everything in Pam's life seemed to be falling in place for what they both knew was a long time, but neither of them were very apt at keeping time. When the door to the stairwell opened above them, they both looked up, shocked to see Oscar and Kelly walking down the stairs. Jim quickly let go of Pam's hand, standing up, letting his voice echo through the stairwell, "I know you can do better next time," he said sternly, smiling at her and winking lightly as he turned on his heel and headed up the stairs. She followed him, watching the ground to keep from smiling desperately after him.

His phone vibrated next to him in the cup holder, and he reached down, pulling it up and smiling as he opened it. _Good afternoon back. You're missing an exciting life of laundry and painting and missing you. Are you having fun without me? _He smiled, texting back quickly as Alan opened the door and climbed in the car, and Jim shoved his phone into his pocket, wishing Alan had taken just a little bit longer.

* * *

She flipped over the basket of laundry onto her bed, smiling as she heard her phone vibrating somewhere under the mass of clean clothes. She dug her hand under the piles, searching violently for it as it vibrated, before she finally found it halfway inside a sock. She opened it, grinning as she read his reply. _Wow, laundry and painting. Are you sure you have time for me? ;) Alan is charming, but not as hot as you in a little black dress._

She laughed, rolling her eyes and tossing her phone against the pillow. She sat on her bed, picking up laundry and folding it quickly, sorting it into piles. She smiled, remembering their date last night. It hadn't been anything fancy or unique or even creative. It had simply been going out to dinner at a nicer restaurant—the type where you have to at least be dressed in work attire to attend—and a nice kiss on the front porch and it was over. But for some reason, her mind kept circulating back to it, and back to him in the way it might if it had been a first date or a new crush.

They'd left straight from work. She'd snuck into the bathroom while he worked on a file, and they'd managed to wait until after everyone else had left to leave. He'd helped her with her jacket and held her hand, and she'd been mesmerized by how charming and naturally attractive he was. It wasn't that she'd never noticed before, it just seemed so much more obvious then. It was so easy to be aware of it.

She picked up a t-shirt, folding it into thirds as she thought about how easy it was to be with him. He had a way of making her feel like no matter what she did in the world, it was all going to be okay. She was comfortable with him in a way that she'd never been with Roy, or anyone for that matter, and she wasn't quite sure what that meant. Was it love? Or was it just a deep type of friendship that developed into more? What was it?

She'd never really felt the same way with anyone else in her life. She knew that all relationships were different, and that the feelings that came with each were different and that the strengths that came with each were different. She didn't believe that once you fell into love and fell out of it you could never fall back into it again, and she certainly didn't believe that falling in love looked the same each time, but she was sure that there was something different between Jim and Roy. The feelings were different, and even though she knew she shouldn't compare them, she couldn't help it. And when she did compare them, the feelings she had for Jim outweighed any smidge of the feelings she'd once had for Roy. But, at the same time, she knew it wasn't fair to judge memories against the present.

It wasn't just the feelings that were different with Jim. She was attracted to him in a way far greater than she'd ever been attracted to anyone else, and it wasn't just because of his tall, lanky body or his muscular frame or his physical characteristics—his personality just awed her every day. He was caring and thoughtful in a way she'd never experienced anyone be before, and it made her want to cry sometimes, he was so good to her. She was always mesmerized by how good he was to her, but sometimes, ever so often, it hit her and she was just in awe of it. How good he was to her. He was easily the most wonderful man she'd ever met.

But it wasn't just the feelings, or how amazing he was or how much she was falling for him. There was a desire in her to make it work with him. Even without promises of love or children or growing old, there was a desire to make it work. With Roy, an engagement, or an I love you had always served as some sort of insurance policy. If she could get just one more promise or one more I love you, maybe it would ease her troubles and make her truly believe that he was the one for her. With Jim, it was different. She didn't need an I love you or a promise of a future to know that she wanted those things. And she wasn't afraid to admit that she wanted those things with him, even if he hadn't admitted it to her yet. There was this aching and desire inside of her heart to be with him and to make a family and a future with him that she couldn't shoo away. And with Roy, she'd always envisioned herself getting married for the wedding, shrugging off the reality that years down the road, they'd be signing divorce papers and parting ways. With Jim, she finally understood how people could go through a relationship truly believing they'd never find anything strong enough to break them apart.

She reached for the last t-shirt in her pile to fold, all of a sudden realizing that when it came to Jim Halpert, she'd never be the one to say goodbye first.

* * *

Jim threw his keys down on the counter, yawning as he made his way to the refrigerator, grabbing a beer out and twisting the cap off with no problem. He took his first swig, sighing afterwards as he plopped down on the couch, grabbing the remote and turning on _Sportscenter._ He yawned again, pulling his phone out of his pocket and setting it on the table, closing his eyes to let them rest for a moment.

He watched the insides of his eyelids, yawning as he played back memories from the day, suddenly aware of how much he'd missed her while he'd been gone with Alan. He knew he hadn't laughed or smiled as much as he normally did, and part of taking her on dates and getting to know her more was the purely egocentric desire to hear her laugh because it made him happy. And suddenly, it hit him like a ton of bricks. He'd skated around it and thought everything around it, but he'd never let himself admit it.

He was happiest with her.

* * *

She'd just climbed into bed when she heard a rap on the door, and she bolted up in bed, grabbing the nearest 'weapon' and tiptoeing to the door. She didn't turn on the lights, and when she entered the living room, she nearly tripped over the ottoman that was actually in it's normal place, letting out an auditory curse word for whoever was banging on her door. She reached the door, bat poised over her shoulder to beat the daylights out of whatever intruder was at her door, and she peered out the peephole, unable to see in the dark light.

"Who is it?" she asked quietly, unsure if it was smarter to just ignore the person or alert them to her presence, but either way she was probably in the wrong, so she might as well speak up.

"Me," he said, and she instantly felt like a fool as she undid the bolts of the door, letting the bat fall to the ground as she opened it.

"You scared the crap out of me," she said, smiling. "I thought you were a bad guy coming to rape me or murder me or something."

"I love you," he said, shrugging softly and smiling at her softly, sticking his hands in his pocket.

"You love me?" she asked.

"Yeah, I do," he said. "I've kind of… skated around it, even in my own head I suppose. But there it is."

She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close. "Thank you," she said softly.

He kissed her cheek and patted her head, before she pulled away, biting her lip and looking down at her hands softly. "I'm not expecting you to say it back," he said, touching her hand. "Don't worry."

She smiled up at him gratefully. "I just… it's serious. I don't want say it and regret it later…"

"I understand," he smiled, kissing her forehead. "I just wanted to know. And it kinda felt urgent."

She smiled and leaned up to kiss him softly. He turned around and walked down the stairs, and she turned toward her door, smiling, before she turned around and called back at him. "Jim!"

He turned around quickly, smiling. "Hmm?"

"I was just thinking earlier," she said softly, and he started back up the stairs again. "I'm never going to leave you." She smiled softly, continuing, "so, if someone leaves, it's gonna have to be you."

He smiled, "well, then I guess it's time we get those monogrammed towels with the lifetime guarantee."

* * *

There we go. FINALLY an update. More emotional progress. More plot progress. Just progress. Coming up, Grandma Halpert.


	25. X is for XXX

She sat in her seat, the dark brown shawl wrapped around her shoulders

A/N: Okay, so kind of a short chapter, but you know, it did what I wanted it to. Y's coming up next. I know, right? WHAAAAAT? So close. So wrong, so right, so raw, all night… Just kidding. Okay, so enjoy. Finals are over for me on Wednesday and I plan on writing like a crazy person once they're out of my mind and out of my life :)

PS. Will you wait for me to tie my shoe?

Review Replies:

Yabberli- Wow, late spring break for you. And haven't you always wanted your towels monogrammed with the lifetime guarantee? I have.  
Dancer- Alan's Jim's brother. Look back on the chapters from a while ago. He and Pam convinced Alan she was pregnant. Haha.  
Anon- Thanks!!  
JAM- Anita Mann is actually a true story. It's a prank my Jim and I played on our unsuspecting coworker.   
Penguin- I know, it really did stink. I basically had to get a new computer, sigh. But better now.  
Kerber- Aww thanks! Here's grandma's wedding… but without a lot of grandma. And I'll read your stuff! I can't wait!  
DinaC- Thanks! The italicized parts were flashbacks, yes. Most of them are just Pam flashbacking and us watching the scene she's playing in her mind. Hope that helps   
KT- Thanks! It's something I did at my office with my jim. And thanks, I really appreciate it—I've struggled with how their relationship should look and what not. So thanks   
Henantz- Aww thanks. I updated early  because I pity you. Haha not really.  
Tophetangel- Wow, thanks! Grandma Halpert, comin up.  
ImpNo- Thank you!  
KristinePotter- Aww thanks!! Anita Mann AG and her Jim's original prank.  
Ruli- You crack me up kiddo. You're adorable. Okay, thank you! Thanks for the detail in the review. They're so fun to read!  
Deleon- Just random errands for the wedding.  
Frodo- Aww I'm sorry I almost did you in!  
Squint- Oh, they will! Don't you worry. Anita Mann is a real person that my Jim and I made up. Haha. That's a fun prank in person ;) And I was so proud of myself with the Oscar comment—you're the only one that noticed it, but I think it's one of my favorite parts!  
lulu- yeah, he's adorable. That jkras/jhalp. Just wanna pick him up and put him on your pillow.  
Youngforeternity- Wow! Thanks!  
Danny Phantom- Oh wow thanks! I'll be sad when it's over too, but at the same time, it was such a HUGE undertaking! I hope you loooove gmas wedding.  
Soccerchick- Thankkks!  
Spanreb- WOW! That's awesome! Thanks so much, what an awesome compliment 

* * *

She sat in her seat, the dark brown shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She was shivering slightly, but she didn't mind it much. It was freezing outside seeing as it was the beginning of November, but the fact that they were inside made it seem slightly less cold, although she was pretty aware of her need for more than just the light shawl she had on her shoulders. For some reason, she didn't want to put on her jacket, if only because she'd always thought that big, bulky coats weren't necessarily attractive when matched with pretty dresses.

That morning, she'd done her hair in light curls, making sure to make it look extra shiny. She normally took no more than twenty minutes doing her hair (and usually no more than six), but this morning she'd gone through all of the steps the pretty girls took. She'd gone the extra effort to make sure she looked her best. After all, it wasn't every day your boyfriend's grandma got married on a ship called Xerxes to a man who drove Harley Davidsons.

She felt bad sitting as close to the front as she was. She was only in the fifth or sixth row back, but it felt close. Perhaps it was because she'd honestly only met the bride once, and the groom she hadn't met at all. It was purely egocentric that she was sitting as close to the front as she was—she really only wanted a good, long look at Jim clad in his tuxedo. He definitely wasn't hard on the eyes.

It was strange though. Sitting in a chair by herself at a wedding she didn't plan and really had nothing to do with. But it was the first wedding she'd been to since she'd broken things off with Roy, and while she always figured the first one she'd go to would be one where she sat by herself, it seemed more strange and surreal in person.

She wasn't sure if she liked or hated weddings. Aside from planning her own (which had been relatively difficult considering she didn't know what time of year it would be), she'd only ever been to three weddings. Her older sister had gotten married years before, and Pam had been a bridesmaid, but at the time she was off in college and preoccupied with life with Roy, and she hadn't thought to be a part of the planning process until after the wedding was over. She hadn't stayed at the wedding very long—shortly after the _I do_s and wedding toasts, she and Roy had slipped out to go meet some friends of his at a local bar.

One had been when she was just nine or ten. She didn't remember much of it, except she'd really liked the cake and she'd thought all of the dresses were really pretty. She'd still believed in princesses and fairy tales at the time, and she could remember sitting in a chair with cake in her lap and punch in her hands, watching as the bride and her groom danced their first dance. She could remember swooning over how gorgeous she looked and how wonderful he seemed, and even to this day she could remember counting how many times the groom kissed the bride. She still remembered the number. 39.

The other one had been one of her good friends from high school who'd gotten married shortly after graduation. Roy had been friends with her fiancé, and since Roy was invited to the wedding, Pam was too. She and the girl weren't close—to this day Pam couldn't remember her name, but she'd gone anyway because Roy wanted to. They'd split just a few years later, and since then, Pam had been able to get out of nearly every wedding she'd been invited to. Well, except Grandma's and her sister's.

Growing up, she'd always believed weddings were wonderful and beautiful. She'd looked at them from the perspective of a little girl with a fairy tale dress on whose prince had finally ridden up to rescue her on his white stallion. She'd loved watching the brides dance, and since her only concept of love had been the ones on wedding days and romantic movies, she'd truly believed that every bride was marrying her prince. In her young mind, there was no such thing as living unhappily ever after.

However, as she grew up and weddings seemed to happen less than divorces did, and break-ups happened far more often than the happily ever afters she'd dreamed of as a young girl, she'd become somewhat cynical about weddings. She'd realized that even brides have zits and chipped toenail polish, and that sometimes it rains when it's not supposed to, and that the groom always forgets something important—but 9 out of 10 times it's not the bride's name, so it's not _that _bad. Somehow, in the course of living and becoming accustomed to marriages and lives together and divorces and sadness, she'd stopped believing in marriage.

It wasn't that she didn't want to be married. She knew herself, and she knew that she did. She wanted to live her life with someone, she wanted to be Mrs. Somebody, and she wanted to have kids to ship to soccer practice and ballet. But she couldn't seem to get past the cynicism that plagued her thoughts. Her ideas and thoughts about what marriage should be and what marriage should look like were gone, and in their place was nothing. It was as if she'd somehow been robbed of the definition of the word, and she was still waiting for the robber to come back and give her some other meaning to fill its void.

She looked around the room, chewing lightly on her nails. All of these people, so dressed up and happy to be sitting there. She felt so alone amidst the people with linked arms to their dates and kids tugging on the sides of their dresses. It wasn't that she was alone; she knew she wasn't alone. She had a date; he just happened to be in the wedding party. It was more that everyone around her seemed to have families and mortgages and a life together, and she was somewhat idling by.

When she really stopped to think about it, weddings were somewhat depressing. And they were the worst kind of depressing. They were the kind of depressing that was masked as joyous. But what was so great about signing your life away to someone else? Why would anyone ever want to give up the independence and freedom they had when they were single and alone? Why would you want to come home every night to the same pair of smelly feet? Why would you want to have to always check in with someone else before you did something?

Suddenly, the idea of married and together seemed so absurd and foreign to her. As if it almost shouldn't exist. She felt like she was in the middle of a huge prank, and she was the only one who could really expose it for what it was, and everyone around her was just buying into the lies and deception. She was the only one who knew the truth, and everyone around her was blind to it.

But that couldn't be right, could it? Was it possible that everyone around her was wrong and she was right? Could that many people be wrong? Or was there something flawed in her logic? Was there something she was missing as she sat in her seat alone, pondering flower arrangements and picket fences and children and Cinderella? There must have been. Why else would all of the people around her go through the wedding, and then come back to one just to sit in the audience? Why would everyone gush over these things if there wasn't something genuinely good and joyous about it?

The music started up, and the crowd around her stood up and she followed suit, her mind not on the bridesmaids trampling down the aisle or the organist playing. She was watching the teal blue dresses as they made their way down the aisle, her mind reeling, wondering what was so _great_ about marriage that everyone seemed to jump head first into it. She looked down at her feet, wrinkling her eyebrows for a minute as she thought about joint tax returns and garage door openers and monogrammed towels, but when she looked up, she found her answer staring her right in the face.

Jim. Why did she ever think marriage was about picket fences or children or monogrammed towels or tax returns or mortgages? Was she really that foolish to believe that everyone around her had gotten married to check "married—filing jointly" on their 1040s? Of course they hadn't. They'd gotten married because at one time, they'd met their own Jim. Her heart quickened as she watched him marching down the aisle, his eye on her nearly the entire time, arm linked with a woman who she didn't even care enough about to acknowledge.

And suddenly, it occurred to her. She'd never understood what marriage really meant until she met Jim. When she'd wanted to be engaged to Roy, it was simply because it made sense. It was the next logical step, and everyone knew it. But with Jim, it was something entirely different. There was a strange desire to come home every night to his stinky feet. To call him and let him know where she was at all times. To kiss only him, love only him, be with only him. And even though marriage wasn't about children and picket fences, she found herself wanting that with him. And suddenly it was so crystal clear to her, and the thought that seemed to permeate her mind was that she would never want to carry anyone's child but his. And that only left her with one option.

She turned as the organ drew silent before starting into the wedding march, and she watched as Jim's grandmother proceeded down the aisle. Pam turned as grandma passed, and when she did, she noticed that the only person in the entire room not watching grandma walking down the aisle was Jim, and it was because his eyes were watching her. And she wondered what he was thinking.

* * *

The ceremony was over, and she was standing against the wall of the reception room, one foot crossed over the other, leaning back ever so slightly against the wall. The wedding party was going to be introduced soon, but for now everyone was sitting around waiting—some sort of drink in one hand, making conversation with some long-lost cousin they really didn't like all that much, waiting for the real party to start as the men in tuxes and women in matching dresses were busy taking pictures out on the deck. She took a sip of her diet coke, watching all of the people around her talking to everyone. She felt somewhat alone among the crowd. After all, everyone she knew was outside on the deck taking pictures, when suddenly, someone leaned against the wall next to her.

"It's always a bit boring until the wedding party gets here," she said, looking at Pam. Pam chuckled lightly.

"Yeah, definitely." She smiled, looking back at the woman. She didn't seem any older than 25, and she knew instantly that the girl wasn't related to Jim. All of the Halperts had darker hair than Jim and the same eyes, and she was quite the exception with her beach blonde hair and dark brown eyes. "I'm Pam," she said, looking over at the girl.

"Allie," she said, smiling. "So, which one of the handsome Halperts are you with?"

"Who says I'm with anyone?" Pam grinned.

"Well, you're at a wedding that screams family only due to the open bar," she nodded her head in the direction of a long line next to a stand with a bartender who looked visibly overworked, "and the fact that the wedding's so small," Allie continued, and for the first time Pam noticed just how small it was. There weren't even 100 people in the room. "And you're around the age of the three oldest boys. And nobody can resist the Halpert charm."

"Is that so?" Pam said, grinning.

"That's what they say," Allie replied. "So, spill it."

"I'm with Jim," Pam said, smiling to herself as Allie nodded, letting out a small noise. "What?" Pam asked, giggling lightly.

"That's what I thought," Allie said, grinning. "I'm dating Jim's cousin Zach," she pointed out to the deck to signal that he was out there. "I would have pegged you as Jim's girl. Zach's been telling me all about Jim's new little girlfriend, but he never told me your name."

"What's he been saying?" Pam turned, excitement on her face.

Allie laughed. "Just that apparently he's really smitten with you," she shrugged. "Jim's been telling him all about the pranks you two have pulled for years, and apparently they've been talking regularly since you two started dating." She used air quotes around the word _dating_ and Pam laughed lightly.

"Oh, so you know about that," she smiled. Allie nodded. "Well, you can tell Zach that I'm quite smitten with his cousin Jim, too." Allie smiled, and Pam took it as her invitation to delve a little deeper. "I'm honestly shocked he doesn't already have a girlfriend or a wife or something."

Allie smiled. "I think the Halperts are those types of boys that only get serious with one girl, ever, and once they find her they won't let her go. But they don't waste time." Pam nodded slowly. "At least that's what I hope, for our sakes."

Pam laughed. "How long have you and Zach been dating?"

"Almost a year," Allie replied. "And it's going really good," she smiled. "We've been talking a lot about the future and everything," she smiled, her eyes sparkling. Pam felt her heart flutter at the feeling of wanting to be engaged to a Halpert and the promises that maybe one day it would come. "So, who knows?" Allie continued, shrugging lightly. "Maybe we'll be sisters-in-law soon."

Pam smiled. "Well, I wouldn't mind that at all," she said, and Allie nodded. They leaned back against the wall for another moment, watching as Grandma and Jesse led the charge into the room, their boyfriends following, arms around each other's shoulders. They both laughed lightly, watching. "Do you know Grandma well?" Pam asked, finding it a little funny to be calling her Grandma for the first time.

Allie smiled. "I've met her a few times. She's quite a trip," she said, and Pam giggled, nodding. "She reminds me of someone straight out of the Ya-Ya sisterhood."

Pam grinned, leaning up and snapping her fingers to point at Allie. "Yes, that's it. Exactly," she laughed. "I've been racking my brain trying to figure out who she is!"

"She's totally Vivi," Allie said, and Pam laughed. "She sure does make things interesting."

"_Interesting_ is the perfect word to describe her," Pam agreed, watching as Jim and Zach were introduced and dancing was started. She laughed when she saw Grandma take the microphone. "Oh God, here we go…" she muttered, and Allie laughed.

"Listen up," Grandma's voice bellowed, and Pam grinned despite herself. "Open bar, so get drunk and have some fun! Limbo in an hour!" She handed the microphone back the emcee and grabbed Jesse's hand, pulling him onto the dance floor and leading them all in the cha-cha.

"Awesome," Pam said, and they both laughed for a minute before they noticed Zach and Jim heading toward them, talking to themselves as they made a beeline for their girls. "Oh, look," she said, tilting her head slightly in their direction.

"They're so cute," Allie said, and Pam nodded, gushing over them. She watched as they parted right as they got closer to them, Zach heading to Allie's left, and Jim to Pam's right, each of them putting their arms around their date's shoulder in unison.

"How you doin'?" they said in unison in their best Joey Tribbiani voice. The girls looked at each other, rolling their eyes and laughing before Jim pulled Pam away from Allie lightly, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"It's loud in here," he said, and she nodded slightly before he continued, "hey, what do you say we find a quieter place to hang out?"

She nodded, smiling as he took her hand and led her out to the deck of the boat, leaning his back against the railing. She smiled, leaning her front against it, looking up at him out of the corner of her eye. "You look really snazzy today," she smiled.

"Snazzy?" he asked, laughing. She smiled, nodding, and he grinned. "Thank you?"

"Welcome," she said. "It's kind of cold out here," she said, rubbing her arms.

He smiled, "I think that's normally when you put your jacket on." She blushed, her cheeks turning red as she slipped her arms into her jacket, leaning onto the railing. "So, I have a question for you."

"Shoot," he said, leaning back a bit more and smiling at her.

"Do you like weddings?"

He nodded slightly. "I think they're hopeful. Sometimes a bit depressing, you know… if you don't have anyone and you're wondering if you'll ever have one of your own." She nodded. "I have a feeling this one will be plenty interesting."

She chuckled. "Why do you say that?"

"Open bar," Jim shrugged, grinning, mimicking her thoughts from just a few moments earlier. She laughed, and they stood there in silence for a moment, him staring inside at the reception, her staring out at the water, before they both turned to each other, locking eyes for a moment.

She smiled at him, reaching up and cupping his face in her hands and kissing him lightly. He smiled, kissing her back softly. When she broke away, he grinned, pulling her hand over toward the stern of the ship. "You want to be really, really cheesy?" he asked, and she grinned, her eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

"Always," she said, and he grinned, turning to her, holding her hands in his own and rubbing a thumb over her palm.

He pulled her toward the tip of the stern, and she smiled as he stepped behind her. "Shut your eyes," he said and she hesitated for a moment before doing so. She felt him kiss the back of her head, and she relaxed lightly. He put his hands on her hips, holding her steady. "Okay, step up on that railing," she did as she was told, suddenly unafraid as she felt the grip he had around her waist. He wasn't ever going to let her go. "Hold on, hold on," he said. "Keep your eyes closed." He kept one hand around her waist, moving it over to her stomach to support her more as he lifted her right arm with his other, and then her left out to the side for a perfect t. "Do you trust me?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist, his hands on her stomach.

"I trust you," she replied, smiling to herself.

"Alright, open your eyes," he said, and she did, grinning, recognizing instantly where she was.

She gasped, playing along with his charade. "I'm flying! Jack!"

He grinned, leaning in and kissing her ear. "You look beautiful tonight, Rose." She giggled, looking over at him and kissing him softly as he stepped closer to her lightly, pulling her body against his to give her more support.

"Are you king of the world?" she teased him.

"I'm king o the world," he said softly, laughing as they flew at the stern of the ship. She grinned, taking in the sight.

"Okay, I'm ready to stop being cheesy now," she said, smiling as she carefully got off the railing and they walked away from the stern, scenes of _Titanic_ playing loudly in her head. He laughed, taking her in his arms and hugging her softly for a minute, taking her hand in his and leading her back to the deck where they were standing before. He leaned his back against the railing, pulling her into his arms and holding her as they watched the couples dancing through the glass windows.

"So," he said softly in her ear, and she sighed lightly, cuddling up against him. "When are we going to get to see some of those famous Beesly dance moves?"

He felt the vibrations from her laughter against his chest. "Oh…" she looked down at the wood, slightly embarrassed, but mostly amused. "I'm pacing myself."

He feigned a serious expression, smiling lightly. "Come on. Get out there," he pointed over to the people dancing ridiculously. "Give the people what they want."

"No, I'm such a dorky dancer," she laughed, burying her head in Jim's chest again, leaning back.

"I know. It's cute," he said, wrapping his arms around her tighter, trying to envelop her body in his own. She shivered slightly but settled into his embrace as they watched the couples dancing together, both perfectly content standing just where they were.

* * *

They'd come back in for toasts and such when they'd noticed everyone take their seats. Jim and Zach had went to go join Grandma, Jesse and the other bridesmaids and groomsmen at the wedding party table, and as luck would have it, Pam and Allie had been stationed next to each other on the other end of the reception room. They made small-talk as they were served their dinner of fried chicken fingers and every kind of pie imaginable, watching as those around them did snorkel shots and threw napkin airplanes. Neither of them had ever been to a wedding like this one and both were somewhat uneasy to join in, but when the limbo stick came out, they couldn't help themselves.

They skipped over to the dance floor, and Jim watched, laughing, when Grandma leaned over to him. "How are things goin' with hot stuff?"

Jim laughed, "good, Grandma. We're really good." He smiled, watching as Pam stuck her tongue out at him, getting in the line for limbo behind Allie. He looked over at Grandma, feeling her eyes on him completely. "What grandma?"

"You better not let flexie over there get away," she said as Pam bent backward, her hair hanging low behind her as she walked under the limbo bar. He laughed watching as she came up, her face red as she smoothed out her dress again, her eyebrows raised and her mouth open with laughter.

"I don't plan to," Jim said, turning to Grandma. "I mean, the girl can _limbo"_ he said, emphasizing her extraordinary gifts. Grandma laughed.

"Well hey if she's that flexible on the dance floor, just imagine what she's like in the sack," Grandma said, and Jim choked on his champagne.

"Grandma!" he said, swallowing. She shrugged next to him, and he laughed lightly. "No, I mean… Pam is cute… and she's funny and warm and-"

He was interrupted by Grandma, "so marry the girl already. Jesus Jim. When you find her you gotta hook, line, and sinker her!"

Jim laughed. "She's not a fish, Grandma."

"That's what you think now," Grandma said, eying her new husband as he winked at her and walked to the back of the reception hall. Grandma stood up quickly.

"What does that mean?" Jim asked, referring back to the fish comment. Grandma shrugged and disappeared, and he turned back to Pam, watching her limbo. She made it pretty far, finally getting the cut ten minutes later when a four year old was able to walk under a stick barely three feet of the ground and she just couldn't bend that low. She quickly came over to his table and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm going to go freshen up a bit, then I'll come keep you company, okay?" she said, asking him like he was some sort of child she had to take care of. But he probably was. He nodded lightly, drumming his fingers on the tablecloth.

"I'll be waiting," he said, and she scampered off to the restroom, dragging Allie with her. Zach came and sat next to him, rolling his eyes as they watched the girls disappear.

"Like either of them need to 'freshen up'," he said, and Jim laughed. "So, man, I have to tell you something."

"What?" Jim asked, turning to look at him as his four year old niece won the limbo competition.

"When Allie comes back, I'm gonna do it," he said, pulling the small black box out of his pants pocket and showing it to Jim under the table.

Jim's eyes raised. "What? Man, that's awesome," he said, patting his back. "Congratulations, that's… awesome."

Zach grinned. "I've been carrying it around all week long. Now just seemed like the right time."

"Yeah, dude, definitely," he said, as Allie and Pam left the restroom and began walking back to them. Zach quickly shoved the box back into his pocket and grinned. "Good luck," Jim whispered as Zach stood up, cutting Allie and Pam off on their way to the table and grabbing Allie's hand, leading her outside. Pam sped up to reach him, grinning as she sat down next to him.

"What was that about?" she asked, her eyebrows raised as she looked out on the deck where Allie and Zach were leaning against the rail, talking.

Jim looked out at the deck, leaning in and whispering in her ear, "just watch." She nodded, watching the deck.

"So, I just saw Grandma and Jesse head into the employees only supply closet with a few life preservers. I think I even heard the word…" she stopped abruptly when she saw Zach get down on one knee, and she clasped her hand over her mouth. "oh my god, is he really doing that?" she looked over at Jim, her eyes wide and her smile contagious.

"Yeah, he really is," Jim grinned, watching.

"Oh, they're so cute. Look how happy she is!" Pam pointed at Allie, who was laughing and crying, jumping into Zach's arms. "We were just talking about that earlier," she sighed, resting her head on Jim's shoulder.

"Talking about what?" he asked, patting her head lightly.

"What it's like to be engaged to a Halpert," she replied, not even realizing what she was saying. "Being sisters-in-law and stuff," she added, swallowing as she realized what she'd accidentally just implied.

"Hmm," Jim said, grinning. "Well, I've never been engaged to a Halpert, so I wouldn't know." She laughed. "Wait!" he exclaimed, suddenly reeling with excitement. "What did you say about Grandma and Jesse?"

She bolted up, grinning at him. "Allie and I saw them heading into the crew members only closet. And Grandma looked really… excited to be going in there, if you catch my drift." Pam said, nodding lightly.

"Oh my god," Jim said, covering his face with his hands. "What if the boat sinks or something?"

"Well, they took life preservers," Pam replied, shrugging.

* * *

They were still sitting there a few minutes later in silence, when Jim finally spoke. "Hey," he said, and she looked up at him, her face blank but her eyes shining lightly.

"You look really pretty," he said, his voice cracking a bit halfway through, and it dawned on him how hard it was for him to get out. Perhaps it was because she looked more than pretty. She looked absolutely gorgeous, and being at a wedding with someone so absolutely gorgeous was different… It just felt different to him. He couldn't explain it.

She smiled and nodded slightly, "thank you." He rubbed his hand over her arm, and she watched him for a minute. "Hey," she said, and he looked down at her, his face blank but his eyes questioning.

"Yeah?"

"Can you believe my last day is Friday?" she asked, and he chuckled, shaking his head lightly. "It seems so surreal."

"It does," Jim nodded, smiling. "But you'll do so great. I mean, you'll be an awesome teacher."

"I'm kind of nervous," she said, sighing. "Its all really new, you know?"

"Yeah," Jim said, patting her arm. "But it's good new. You'll be so much happier there, and you'll be doing something you love and are good at… Not that you're not good at answering phones, just… You'll enjoy it. And that's really important."

She smiled. "Yeah, but what am I going to do without Creed and Dwight and Angela and Michael?" she laughed. "And Kevin and Oscar… I mean, how does one live without these people?"

He grinned. "You know, I think your life will be twice as good because you'll have your own Creed and Dwight and Angela and Michael and Kevin and Oscar. And you'll be able to see them in teenage form which will be, let's face it, awesome." She laughed, imagining Angela as a teenager. "Plus, you'll still see them. When I have parties or we get invited to weddings and stuff. And you know you can come by the office any time to visit me."

She laughed. "Okay, that sounds good."

"I know it's a bit scary," he said softly, pulling her closely. "But you're gonna be awesome." She smiled. "On and on you will hike, and I know you'll hike far…" he started and she laughed, smacking him lightly.

"Okay Dr. Seuss," she replied, laughing as she watched Allie and Zach take the dance floor, her head resting on his shoulder. . "Do you…" she said softly, and he looked down at her, smiling. "Do you want to dance?" she asked nervously, and he nodded.

She smiled, standing up and smoothing out her dress, offering her hand to him. He chuckled, taking her hand and leading her out onto the dance floor, pulling her close. He rested both hands on her hips, and she smiled at him lightly, hanging her arms around his neck, pressing her body closer to his. She let her forehead rest on his shoulder as they danced, and he smiled, watching her, a slight smile on his face.

She looked up at him, smiling. "Jim?" He let out a soft murmur in response, and she smiled, nodding to over where grandma and Jesse were dancing. He followed her gaze, and she set her head against his shoulder watching as he watched, his chin resting on the top of her head. They were laughing and smiling and kissing, and Jim couldn't help but realize how beautiful the sight was. "Do you think that'll ever be us?"

He smiled, kissing the top of her head. "Yes." He smiled against her hair as they continued to sway to the music, both watching the other couple dancing. He thought about how strange love was. How funny it was to find it and how sometimes it came so quickly that you had no idea it was there, and yet other times, it was just always there and you couldn't remember a time it came or when it started. That's how it was with Pam. He just couldn't pinpoint it. Jewel's _Meant For You _picked up, and they kept dancing. He was drumming the beat lightly on her hips, and she was humming against his chest, and it occurred to him how perfect she was. How perfect she fit in his arms.

"Pam?" he whispered softly in her ear, and she murmured against his chest in response. He smiled softly. "Do you think that'll ever be us?"

Her head bolted up quickly, and she stared at him with an intensity he'd never seen in her eyes before, the words playing in the background. _And dreams last for so long even after they're gone. I know you love me and soon you will see. I was meant for you, and you were meant for me_. She reached her hands up and cupped his face in them, staring into his eyes, her thumb running over his cheek. She smiled lightly, "absolutely, I do." He smiled, and she leaned up to kiss him, letting her hands fall back to his neck.

They danced for a few more songs, silently, neither of them talking. He would occasionally sing into her ear, and she would occasionally hum into his chest, but neither of them spoke. Around the middle of the fourth song they'd danced to, she looked up at him. "Hey, want to get out of here?"

He nodded softly, and they quietly walked out of the reception room and off the boat.

There we go! I hope it lived up to the hype! Please review!!


	26. Y is for Young Actors Theater

Without further adieu, here's Y. For those of you who didn't catch on, the last chapter was supposed to be a mix of Phyllis' Wedding and Booze Cruise, but the way it should have happened ;) So with that in mind, go reread the last page or so, and come to your own conclusions about what Jim and Pam are doing. I'm not saying one way or the other.

Review Replies:

Henantz- Aww, I'm so glad. More of that kind of talk coming up.  
SquintSuid- I love Allie too. She's cute and fun.  
GlamGlitter- I have no idea, but I missed your reviews! And I'm so glad you caught onto that!!  
Kerber- Why, thank you dahlin'! I can't believe the next chapter is Z! How craaaazy.  
Penguin Patrol- That episode was great. I've been somewhat impressed by the last few episodes!  
Spectacular- Yay! I'm so glad you figured out I was trying to kind of merge the two together. Sorry you don't like grandma.  
Anon- Me too, and I'm glad you liked Titanic reenactment.  
CoffeeObsessed- Wow! Totally not my intention!! I've been watching Friends lately because I wasn't allowed to watch it when I was younger, and now I love it, but I'm only in Season 2, so. Bear with me.  
Dancer- Me too, me too  
WEASLEY- You're adorable. Nice try with the speculation…  
Kristine- Well, I guess I left that part up to the reader's interpretation….  
Maddi- Everyone you know is getting married, everyone I know is having babies!  
Ama- No! I actually haven't seen much of Friends! I wasn't allowed to watch it as a kid, and now I'm just now catching up. But I'm only on Season 2! So no, not intentional!  
Alison- Yes you are. Better review this one or I'll have your ass. Glad you believed it and loved it.  
Ruli- I've missed you recently, btw! Great review! THANKS!  
Nat- Wedding mode. Ahh what a wonderfully strange mode to be in! Glad you liked it.  
Soccerchick- We will see.  
KT- Oh I'm so glad you liked it! I had some trouble with it, but I'm glad it lived up to the hype! And yes, it's almost over, and I'm sad too. So bittersweet.  
Smoore- Thanks!! Here's Y.  
Eaglechic- I liked her musings too. She's fun to work things out through.  
Lulu- Thanks so much! That means a lot! And hahahaha that's too funny.  
Michelle- Jim's side of the deal? Hmm… I need to go back and see what you're talking about!!  
Tophet- I heart her too. And thank you!  
ImpNo- Your comment cracks me up.  
Danny- I know. Doesn't everybody? I think even John Krasinski wishes he could be engaged to a Halpert.  
Hope- Thanks so much! That was a great review and such a compliment.  
Jonalyn- Oh I'm so glad you liked it! Thanks so much, and I love your name!  
Meg- How you doin'? hahahhaha.  
Bethy- Continued!! Thanks!!

* * *

He pushed the cart through the store, leaning over the front of it lightly as she stood next to him, checking things off on her list. "What else do you want with it?" she asked, adding a box of linguine noodles to their cart. "We have everything for the spaghetti if you like it plain, but do you like mushrooms or chicken or sausage or anything like that in it?" She looked over at him, and he shrugged.

"I like cheese in it," he said, laughing. "Seriously, just make your grandma's recipe. That's what I want to taste."

"Well, we can add onto it if you like something," she said, nodding. "I mean, sometimes I put mushrooms on it because I like them. It doesn't mean it's not grandma's recipe."

"I like mushrooms," he stated, and she laughed, rolling her eyes. "You're so difficult."

"What!?" he asked, feigning disbelief on his face. "I just said I like mushrooms!"

"I heard you," she smiled, grabbing a container of parmesan cheese and tossing it in the cart.

"Pam, I have parmesan cheese," he said, smiling. "You don't need to buy more."

"Are you sure you have it?" she asked, thinking back to a few days earlier when he'd assured her he had ranch dressing. He hadn't.

"Yes, I'm sure," he said, reaching in to pull the container out.

"Are you positive?" she asked again, covering his hand with hers to delay the process of the cheese removal.

"I am 99.999999995 percent positive, yes," he said, putting the cheese back on the shelf. She grinned, pulling it back down and placing it in the cart.

"Not good enough," she smiled, and he rolled his eyes, looking back up at her. He quickly kissed her, pulling the cheese out of the cart as he did and placing it back on the shelf behind his back. He pulled away, grinning, and she smiled. "What was that for?"

"Just because it's Friday," he replied, walking forward with the cart. She grinned, watching him as he turned onto the other aisle, before quickly ducking back and grabbing the container of parmesan cheese and walking with it behind her back.

After adding some mushrooms, salad ingredients, and some grape soda, they pushed toward the front of the store, quickly checking out. She added the parmesan cheese to the conveyor belt, grinning as he looked down at it, then back up at her, his face widening in his classic grin. "Now, Pam, I told you I had parmesan cheese."

"You said you were 99.999999995 percent sure you had parmesan cheese," she contorted. "I said that wasn't good enough." He rolled his eyes, smiling as he whipped out his debit card and paid for the groceries, parmesan cheese and all. She grabbed three bags of groceries, leaving him the one, and waited as he finished checking out, before leading him outside. She saw a little girl sitting at a table outside the store, dressed in a girl scouts uniform. "Jim! We forgot to get dessert," she said quickly as the doors opened and the little girl appeared in front of Jim's eyesight.

"Hmm," he said, noticing the girl and the boxes of cookies on the table. "Well, how about some girl scout cookies?"

"What a great idea!" she grinned, laughing on the inside. _Mama always said sometimes you have to make the man think it was really his idea. _He sauntered over to the little girl and she watched smiling.

"Hi Sir," the girl's voice piped up, and they could both tell she was trying her hardest to make a sale. "Would you like to buy some girl scout cookies?"

Jim walked over to her, grinning. "Well, of course I would, young lady!" he said in a fake English accent, evident to both the girl and Pam. "Now, what's your name miss?"

She giggled, and Pam smiled, watching him from a bit of a distance. "I'm Jessica," she said, biting her lip.

"Well, Jessica," Jim said, "My name is Jim, and I'll be your customer today. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me." She giggled, and Jim laughed, looking up at Pam. "Come here, you," he said. She smiled and walked closer, "what's your poison?"

"Sir," Jessica started, but Jim put his finger up.

"Young lady, do not call me sir," he said, his English accent rising again. "Sir is my father's name. I'm Jim." She smiled, blushing lightly.

"Jim," she said. "The cookies aren't poison. They're really good, I promise!"

He laughed. "Oh, well then, I'll amend my previous statement," he said, switching his accent to an easily distinguishable Texan one. "Lady, what's your cookie?"

"Why, I don't know," Pam said thoughtfully, looking at the boxes. "I like Thin Mints, and Samoas… and all of them really."

"Samoas are really good," Jessica piped up, pushing the purple box to Jim. "I also really like Thin Mints, but you should get whatever you want. And you should get a lot of it too. I need to sell a lot of boxes."

"Oh yeah?" Jim asked, leafing through the cookies. "How many do you need to sell?"

"200 total," she said, "but I've only sold 150 so far. But now it's getting later," she sighed.

"Why do you have to sell that many?" Jim asked, picking up a few boxes and handing them to Pam to hold. He set his groceries down on the ground next to him, and Pam smiled, watching him with the little girl.

"There's this really cool girl scout camp I want to go to this summer," Jessica said. "They have like, horseback riding, and canoeing, and all sorts of fun stuff. And it's in Virginia, so it's a little bit away. And all of my friends are going, and I really want to go, but you have to sell a certain amount of cookies to be able to go."

"Oh, so you need to sell fifty more boxes to go?" he asked. "Have you ever been to girl scout camp before?"

She shook her head lightly. "I've never been to camp at all. I've never gotten this close to selling them all, and I guess I could pay to go, but it's a lot of money."

"Hmm," Jim paused, looking up at Pam. "Well, we'll take four boxes," he said, pushing two samoas and two thin mint boxes toward her. She grinned.

"That'll be sixteen dollars, Jim," she said, and he handed her a twenty. She gave him the change, and then smiled. "Thank you."

"Of course," he said, nodding. He turned to look at Pam. "Hey Pam?" She raised her eyebrows, smiling at him. "What do you say we help Jessica sell some more boxes of cookies?"

Pam smiled, "well, I guess that wouldn't be so bad," she winked at Jessica, sitting down on the brick bench right next to her stand. She leaned in to whisper to the girl, "be careful, he can sell anything. He sells paper for a living."

"Paper?" Jessica said, scrunching up her nose. "Who buys paper?"

"Exactly," Pam said, smiling. "Somebody does though. Probably just because he's charming and cute." Jessica scrunched her nose up, and Pam laughed, grinning. "So, how old are you?" she asked, as Jim nabbed a customer to come buy a few boxes of cookies. Jessica paused to make the sale, before turning back to Pam.

"9. I'm in 4th grade at Scranton Elementary," she said.

"Oh cool!" Pam said, grinning. "What's your favorite subject?"

"English and drama," she said, smiling as she and Jim sold four more boxes.

"Oh cool! Do you do any acting classes or anything? You know they have like camps and stuff like that you can go to. I went to one when I was little that was like an art camp, a music camp and a drama camp all in one. And you went for like a week and the art people designed the set, and the music people sang and the drama people acted and at the end of it you put on this entire show." Pam said excitedly, and Jim smiled, watching her out of the corner of his eye. "I still remember that we did The Little Mermaid, and I was Sebastian. I was an awesome Sebastian."

Jessica laughed. "I like that movie, it's good." Jim tapped her shoulder and she turned back, smiling a toothy grin at the customer and explaining the different types of cookies and how she wanted to go to camp that summer. He was about to only buy two boxes, but Jim piped up, convincing him to buy a bit more in his odd roundabout way. "I actually act a lot. Did you ever read _The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe_?" she asked Pam, and Pam nodded.

"Well I act at Young Actors Theatre and we're putting on that play tomorrow night. I'm Lucy Pevensie, and I'm really, really nervous. It's my first time acting in a real play and stuff," she said sheepishly.

Jim turned around quickly, "You're going to be Lucy Pevensie?!" he exclaimed, and she smiled, nodding. He put his hand in the air, "High five! That's so cool!" She laughed, high-fiving him. He turned to Pam. "Pam, I know Lucy Pevensie! How freaking cool is that?"

Pam laughed. "That's really cool." She turned back to Jessica. "I'm sure you'll make an awesome Lucy. She was always my favorite character."

"Yeah, she's really cool. I have cool scenes with Mr. Tummus. The fawn guy," she said. "He looks really funny."

"I bet! It's hard to look like a half-man, half-goat and not pull off the funny look," Pam said, and Jessica giggled. Jim turned around.

"Okay, I have to see the real live fawn," Jim said, his face serious. Pam smiled, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, where's he at?"

Jessica looked at him, a confused look on her face. "It's just a costume, really… I mean, it's not like we got a real fawn or anything…" she trailed off, and Pam grinned. Jim looked at her.

"Hey, I have to run to the car real quick," he said, getting up and picking up the groceries and the keys. "Think you can hold down the fort?"

"Sure," she said, nodding. Jim pointed at the man about to come out of the store and whispered to her, "tell him you're nine years old, you've never been to camp, and you need to sell all your cookies. And smile sweetly at him and talk confidently, I'll be right back." He took off down the parking lot, leaving Pam and Jessica sitting at the table, watching him.

An older man walked out of the store, carrying one shopping bag, and Jessica sat up in her seat, working up the courage to ask him. "Sir!" she called, "would you like to buy some girl scout cookies to help me go to camp this summer?" The man stopped, looking at her for a moment, before walking over to her and picking up a box. "I've got to sell 20 more boxes in a half hour, and I've never been to camp before. And they taste really good too." The man nodded for a minute, "how much do they cost?"

"They're four dollars a box," Jessica said. "But they're really worth it. They're really yummy!"

"Well, yes, I've had them before," the man said. "Here, I'll take a few boxes of thin mints," he said, picking up three boxes and handing her twelve dollars. She took it, smiling gratefully as Jim walked back up. She thanked the man as he walked away, and Jim came and sat down next to her.

"So, are you nervous about being the coolest Pevensie ever?" he asked her, and she nodded slightly. A younger woman walked out of the store, and Jim nudged Jessica.

"Huh?" she asked at the nudge, before straightening up. "Excuse me, ma'am!" she said confidently. "Would you like some girl scout cookies?" The woman came over and bought a few boxes, bringing Jessica's total amount left to sell to a whopping twelve boxes. As she walked away, Jessica nodded, "yeah, I'm a little nervous, but I think I'll do okay at it."

Pam butted in, counting Jessica's profits from her side of the bench. "Hey, you've only got a few more to go. If you get four more people to buy three boxes, you'll have hit your mark!"

Jim grinned, watching Jessica's face light up. "Really?"

"Really," Pam said, counting the boxes in front of her. "I know you can do it. Any tips, Jim?"

"Okay," Jim said, looking at Jessica. "If it's a woman you're selling too, make a puppy dog face. If it's a man, just smile big. Either way, speak confidently. Make sure they know how much you love these cookies."

Jessica nodded. "I can do that."

"I know," Jim replied, winking at her. Pam smiled, watching the two of them, her mind wandering to how wonderful Jim was with Jessica, a child he just met an hour ago. She couldn't imagine what he'd be like with his own daughter.

The last twelve boxes were sold to the next five people leaving the store, each of them unable to resist Jessica's strong salesman techniques. When they'd collected all the money, Jessica smiled. "Thanks a lot," she said. "You really helped me a lot."

"Dude, of course, it was fun," Jim said, giving her another high-five.

"Good luck in your play tomorrow," Pam said, patting the girl's head and standing up. "I know you'll do great. You'll make the fawn look like nothing special." Jessica laughed, and Jim and Pam started walking away before Jim suddenly turned.

"Hey, Jessica!" She turned around, smiling.

"Yeah?"

"What time's that play of yours tomorrow?" he asked, and Pam looked at him for a minute, bewildered.

"We've got one at two, and one at seven. But I gotta be there at ten for dress rehearsals and make up and stuff."

"Well, we'll see you there," Jim said, winking and turning before the little girl could reply. He took Pam's hand, and she smiled up at him.

"We're going to her play?" she asked, smiling.

"Well, Young Actors Theater does start with Y, you know?" he said, and she laughed. "Plus, I know how much you love Lucy Pevensie."

"You just want to see the fawn," she laughed, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah," he said, unlocking the car. "I do."

* * *

He was hungry even after they finished making and eating the entire pot of spaghetti. For some reason, laying on the couch watching a movie made him hungrier than anything else. It was a small quirk she had to get used to. She knew now, after enough months of dating, that if he would resign to a lazy night watching a movie or talking on the couch with her, she'd have to get up and fix him something to eat later. Or at least, she'd have to have something in her fridge. She didn't mind it, really. She was happy to make him dinner or open a pudding cup for him. She'd never been one of those girls that wanted to be a housewife or wanted to be expected to have dinner on the table at five o'clock, but for some reason, the very idea that Jim didn't expect that from her made her want to do it for him.

They'd made the spaghetti together—she'd showed him how to follow her grandmother's old spaghetti recipe, and he'd taught her how to make his mother's famous mandarin orange salad. They'd found out quickly that they both made their garlic bread the same way, and she was glad they did because when it came to food she was willing to compromise on, garlic bread was at the very bottom of the list. She'd grown up with it a certain way, and the last thing she wanted to do was incorporate a worst tasting garlic bread into her diet.

They'd finished eating and quickly retreated to the couch. One thing she'd always loved about their nights together was how quickly they could go from one thing to another, but it never felt like some sort of endless race of trying to entertain one another. It was simply that they mutually thought of something to do and enjoyed doing these things together. She didn't mind that at all. She felt safe when she was with him, and even if they didn't have countless passionate nights filled with sexy phrases and emotions of desire, she knew she was loved. The way he looked at her, the way he protected her, and the way he was simply there showed her.

That night they'd been watching When Harry Met Sally, which was one of her favorite movies, even if she did forget about it often. She loved the idea that it was impossible for two friends to be best friends without falling in love because she was certain that at some point, it was impossible to love someone else the way best friends do without eventually developing feelings for the other. She loved the funny parts of the movie, the orgasm scene, and the ending that brought tears to her eyes. She loved being able to both laugh and cry at a movie.

There was something vulnerable about crying at a movie in front of him. She didn't cry often, but when she did, he seemed to take notice. And for some reason, crying at a movie seemed more vulnerable than crying because of something that happened in real life. Perhaps because when she cried at movies, it was because of some hidden or suppressed desire she had within her. She cried at all of the scenes of two people falling in love and getting engaged because somewhere within her, there was a desire to be one of those two people, in love and engaged. However, the movies she cried at the most weren't the romantic comedies, and she wasn't ashamed of that, but she was a little embarrassed. The movies she cried at most were the sports movies about teams that came from behind and somehow accomplished more than anyone thought they could.

They reminded her of dreaming, and the idea that these athletes accomplished their dreams and got what they want drove her to tears. She could see how hard they worked at their goals, and seeing them reaching fruition overjoyed her. Somehow, it reminded her that the goals and dreams she set for herself were possible, if only she worked hard enough to achieve them. She liked to believe that she was working hard to achieve them, but she knew she wasn't when she watched those movies. She didn't truly believe she could achieve those goals that she set out for, and she knew that's why she hadn't yet. Well, at least until Jim.

For some reason, he had set something on fire inside her. There was a new belief inside her that she could do anything she wanted and be anybody she wanted, and it would work out. She felt like the scrawny kid on the soccer team who scored the winning goal against the biggest kid on the other team in a shootout with the entire championship on the line. She felt like she was powerful and brave and strong, even if she was just five foot three in reality. She could do anything when he believed in her, including believing in herself.

She smiled over at him, kissing him lightly as she stood up and walked to the fridge, grabbing out two yogurts and two spoons and bringing them back to the couch. She settled back against him, handing him his yogurt and a spoon and opening her own. "Mixed berry," he said, and she smiled, nodding. "I should have known." They laughed for a minute before she took a bite of hers, grinning. He mimicked her, before speaking again, "so have you met your teenage Angela yet?" he asked.

"No," she laughed. "All of my students are more versions of Kelly or Dwight or Kevin." He nodded, taking another bite as she swallowed her own, thinking. "I did meet teenage Jim, though."

"Oh yeah? What's he like?" Jim asked, swirling his spoon in his yogurt.

"He comes to school every day in knee-high neon socks and suspenders," she said, grinning to herself as she felt something cool hit the top of her head. She scrunched her forehead, reaching her hand up as she continued, "and he has this really hot calculator wa—" she stopped talking as she felt the top of her head, "oh my god what is that?" she asked, pulling her hand down quickly to see yogurt on it. "I'm going to get you," she grinned, dipping her spoon in her yogurt and spreading some of her own on the top of his head.

"Why, I oughta…" he said, taking another huge spoonful of yogurt and laughing as he spread it all down her arm, sticking his finger in it and tapping her nose. Her mouth went wide as she looked at him in surprise, laughing lightly. She reached into her yogurt, looking back up at him as a huge spoonful of yogurt when flying at her face after he used his spoon as a slingshot.

"Jim!" she shrieked, wiping the yogurt from her eyes. "What… now I have it all over my face."

He grinned.

"Jim, it's not funny!" she said, sputtering with laughter as he emptied the rest of his yogurt container on the top of her head and spread it around her face. She looked up at him, shock and playful hatred registering on her face.

He grinned, "you know you love me," he said, cocking his head to the side before taking another bite from his yogurt. She smiled, shaking her head lightly before leaning into kiss him, making sure to wipe as much yogurt off her head and onto his as possible.He laughed, pulling her into a bear hug and holding her close to him as she thought about what he'd just said. _You know you love me. _Did she? Did she know she loved him? She wasn't sure—she'd never told him she loved him. And if she hadn't said it, then it couldn't be true, could it?

Sure, she stayed awake at night dreaming of him, and she thought constantly about what her life would be like with him in it. There was no doubt in her mind that at some point she wanted… things with him. But love? She didn't love him. She was just thinking practically. He was her best friend. Of course she'd want to spend her life with her best friend—who wouldn't? If you had to choose someone to live with and raise children with, wouldn't you want it to be your best friend? Who said anything about love?

Love was just a word. It wasn't anything, really. She wasn't sure she really believed in it, other than the horseshoes and clovers way, or the way princesses talked about falling in love with prince charmings. If there were no princesses or prince charmings, how did she know there was love? Who even said love really existed? It wasn't like an ice cube or a flower. You couldn't pick it up and touch it, or smell it, and know it was there. It was just some foreign concept that man had created, like fear or perfection or hate. Did it really exist? She didn't think so. After all, could anything exist if you couldn't feel it?

She thought she had a good argument for the non-existence of love. How could anything exist if there was no evidence of it at all? It was just a word. Nothing at all associated with it. After all, everyone always said love was unexplainable and strange and one of those things where you "just knew." Things that were real weren't like that. You could explain soccer balls. You didn't have to "just know" when one came flying at your face. It was there. You could see it, and feel it. You knew it existed because there was proof right in front of you. Love… There was no proof in love. It was just a word.

She didn't want to admit it, but she knew there was a small wrinkle in her ideas of love and its non-existence. She'd never noticed this wrinkle before, but two weeks ago it had started and it had been wrinkling ever since. The wrinkle was the way she felt when Jim said he loved her. If love wasn't real, why would her heart soar the way it did when he told her that first time two weeks ago? Why would her heart do pitter-patters when he held her? There was something inside of him that echoed off of him, and she could feel it when he held her. And if she was truly honest with herself, she felt it most when he'd said he loved her.

Perhaps it was more than just chemistry and pheremones. Perhaps there was something more to their crazy attraction. Some sort of secret word or feeling she hadn't been introduced to yet. Perhaps there was some feeling that everyone around her was feeling, and it was this love feeling that Jim spoke of. Maybe, just maybe, she did believe in it after all. Maybe everything her mother had told her about love had actually been true, and she'd just been afraid to admit it. But why?

Why was she so afraid to admit that love might exist? And not only that it might exist, but that it might exist for her? That she might feel it for him? Perhaps because she knew her heart, and she knew that love was scary. She'd seen it do scary things to people around her. Broken hearts weren't fun, and she'd seen those first hand. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt one—what Roy had done to her certainly hadn't hurt bad enough to break her heart, had it? But she'd seen them. She'd seen the way broken hearts broke people. She'd seen the sadness and the hatred that came with them. And she knew that broken hearts were the consequences of falling in love. Admitting that you loved someone.

And maybe, well maybe she didn't want her heart broken. Maybe she wanted to stay as in tact as she possibly could. And love… Love just lead to that. Lead to those broken hearts and that hurt that was fatal and deadly. And why would she resign herself to that? Why would she ever want to put herself in that sort of predicament? Why would she ever say she loved someone if it meant she'd be hurting in the end? It seemed like a stupid move.

Because if it was just kids… If it was just marriage and futures, that was okay. That wasn't heart breaking. But if it came down to love… Well, that was heart breaking. Losing love. Letting it go. Having it come back and bite you in the ass. Was that worth it? Was saying _I love you_ or even believing in the concept of love worth the broken heart that was inevitably the result of opening yourself up to love? She wasn't sure, but she didn't think so.

She wondered why Jim had told her that he loved her. After all, he wasn't a foolish man. Certainly he knew that loving someone came with consequences. Certainly he knew that broken hearts were painful. He had to have known that. And yet, for some reason, he'd said it anyway. What had made him say what he'd said? Why had he driven over in the middle of the night to tell her on her doorstep? Something must have felt pressing enough that he had to get it out and tell her… or there must have been some reason he wanted her to know. But why had he wanted to be so vulnerable and open with her? Why would he want to give her that opportunity to break his heart?

She looked up at him, and smiled when she saw the peaceful look on his face. She felt his thumb rubbing against her palm even as he drifted off to sleep, and there was some sort of safety there. Just in his sleeping. Just in knowing that he'd fallen asleep with her wide awake in his arms, giving her complete control. And suddenly, it hit her. He trusted her. He trusted her not to break his heart. And maybe it was easy to love someone you trusted. Maybe it was easier to love someone when you knew they weren't going to break your heart. And if you knew they weren't going to break your heart, wouldn't you want to love them? If love was as amazing a feeling as everyone who felt it said it was, it had to be worth it.

She smiled watching him sleep and wondered if perhaps the feelings she had were what love was. Her mother had always told her she would just know when she found love, and she wasn't sure if she really believed that. She thought maybe it was more than that. She remembered what her father told her one day when she was twelve and asked what love was. "It's like Christmas, every day," he'd told her. She hadn't understood it then, but she'd never taken the time to ponder it since. It was like Christmas. It was like opening presents and decorating trees and gingerbread cookies and egg nog. About things that felt good and made you feel warm and cared for. But she knew Christmas was more than that. She hadn't been raised religiously, per say, but she'd been raised religiously enough to know what Christmas was really about. Hope and faith and this kind of ultimate love that would give up anything… It was about giving and receiving and seeing joy and happiness all around.

Love was like Christmas? She thought back to her moments as a young child at the Christmas tree. Her parents had always had a rule that she and her siblings couldn't wake them up until the clock struck seven. Every year they'd sat out in the living room surrounded by presents, eating their candy for hours as they waited for the clock to strike seven. Pam had always been the one the most excited and because of that, she'd always been the one elected to run into her parents' bedroom and wake them up for present time. She remembered clearly the anticipation of opening presents, and that lingering feeling, even after all of the presents were opened… that lingering feeling that clearly said that there was something special there. Maybe even that she was something special.

She thought about the past few months, and how the times when she'd felt the most excited and the most special had been when she was going on dates with him. She'd looked forward to those Saturdays the way she used to look forward to Christmas, and at the end of them, she'd felt that safety deep in the pit of her stomach the way she had when all of the presents had been wrapped. She'd felt that euphoria with every kiss and every kind word Jim had said—the euphoria that came when she finally got that Barbie Jeep she'd always wanted. And she realized she hadn't felt that warm, that cared for, that happy or special since she was a kid, waiting for mom and dad to wake up so she could finally open that present under the tree that she'd been shaking for weeks.

And suddenly, it hit her, just like everything had when it came to him. It just flew in and was right in front of her face, as clear as day, and she marveled at how she'd never noticed it was there before. Of course there was such a thing as love. Of course it was worth it if she found someone she trusted not to break her heart. And somewhere in the back of her mind, the words of Tennyson flitted in and she remembered that it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. And she knew it was time to take a chance, and take a risk. Because when it came down to it, every day with Jim was Christmas.

* * *

He hadn't been able to get Z off his mind from the moment he woke up that morning. Part of him felt like this was _it_, which he knew was silly considering they were dating and things were going well, but he couldn't deny his need to please her and make sure he won their bet. It was more than just about a victory, though. If nothing else, at the bare minimum, he wanted Pam to be able to give her heart and fall in love again, without the worry and precaution that every man on earth was scum like a certain ex-boyfriend of hers had been.

He was fairly certain where he stood with her. Their relationship was comfortable and safe, and he knew he loved her and would never be the one to end it. On the same token, however, she'd made similar vows to him. It wasn't that he didn't believe every word that came out of her mouth—he truly, honestly believed her more than he'd ever care to admit to any of his male friends due to the immense teasing rituals he'd be put through—it was more that he wanted the security. He felt like the woman in the relationship at times, praying for her to finally love him and open up to him long enough that he could nab her as his own.

It wasn't that he really wanted to 'nab' her, per say. It was more that he just wanted her for himself. He'd spent years pining after her, and now that he had her, he wanted her completely. He wanted some sort of assurance that she was his, and only his, and that somehow, he could bank on that. Because the thought of living without her was terrifying to him, and if he was honest with himself, he really couldn't begin to fathom how he would survive.

He wasn't foolish enough to ask her to be his forever today, but he knew that eventually he would lose his patience and would have to make sure that she was his, and he hoped that day came at an opportune time. After all, talking generally about being married and babies and monogrammed hand towels was one thing, but once you started asking for babies with half Beesly half Halpert, and wedding rings, and hand towels with a H on them, things changed drastically. And he wasn't about to throw something that was too big and too soon at her too hard.

He'd been dreading the Z date since they'd started, not only at the prospect of it being the last day she officially owed him her Saturday, but also because it was such a hard letter he wasn't sure exactly what to do with. He knew it had to blow her away, just like Y did, but he'd feel a little more easy about the two dates if he had any sort of inkling that she'd stick around.

He was paranoid. He knew he was paranoid. She'd made multiple comments along the way in their relationship about what she wanted and expected from him, and he hadn't taken a single one lightly. At the same time, though, he'd tried not to get his hopes up, often dismissing them as more of a joking, playful thought than a real one to entertain. But he couldn't deny that he wanted those things, and he wouldn't ever deny it. He just wanted her to confirm that she wanted them too.

He knocked on her door, smiling as she opened it not even half a second after his knuckles hit the wood. "Hi," she smiled, stepping outside of her door, a jean jacket in her arms and a light pink, long sleeved shirt. He smiled back at her, noticing quickly the way her hair was curled around her ears and how her chocolate brown pants didn't really match her black shoes. He thought about the day his sister had told him the 'no brock and blawn" rule, which had taken him an entire two minutes to realize it meant he wasn't allowed to mix black and brown. Looking at Pam, he decided that rule didn't exist.

"You look nice," he said, taking her hand. She closed the door behind herself, heading down the stairs. "I am so excited about seeing the fawns."

She laughed. "I bet it's just a really lame costume."

"No, Pam! No!" he protested, staring at her incredulously. "They got real live fawns. I know they did!"

"Where do you think they found them, Jim?" she asked, laughing under her breath.

"Fawns R' Us?"

"Your Mom R' Us," he replied, and she looked up at him with a funny expression. He shrugged his shoulders, "I guess that one didn't work."

"Almost, baby," she said, laughing as they climbed in the car and headed toward Jessica's play. They drove in silence to the play, but not an uncomfortable silence. So much was on each of their minds that it almost felt like there was conversation bouncing off the walls of the car. When they finally pulled into the parking lot of the theater, he turned to her, smiling as he noticed she was still lost in her own thoughts. He looked at her for a moment longer before she shook her head, snapping out of her daydream. "Sorry," she blushed, hand on the door as he got out to help her out of the car.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked, opening the door. She smiled up at him.

"Holidays," she said, smiling. "Thanksgiving is coming up, and I'm excited about getting to go home and see my parents and everything."

"Yeah?" he asked, and she nodded, lacing her fingers with his.

"Yeah, I love it," she said, smiling. "Thanksgiving's always been a big to-do in my family. My mom has three sisters, and they've grown up all over the state of Philadelphia, and we never see my aunts or my grandparents because everyone's so busy. So one year, before I was born, my grandma decided she'd had it with visiting everyone during Easter and Christmas and fighting over where she went each holiday," Pam stopped pausing and looking around.

He squeezed her hand, and she looked up at him, smiling, "so anyway, she decided one year that Thanksgiving was our family's time. And that everyone was obligated to go to thanksgiving at her house. So now all of my aunts and my cousins and it's just this huge thing because it's the only time everyone sees each other. So we all show up on Wednesday after work and stay through Sunday night."

"Yeah? That sounds really cool. What do people do for the other holidays?" he asked.

"Oh, it's just family time. We go to the other grandparents or have Christmas at our own houses. Thanksgiving is my favorite though because everyone's there and there's a ton of food and the boys go golfing on Friday and the girls go shopping and we watch football and eat leftovers and it's just really, really good," she said, sighing at the thought of it.

"It sounds like a lot of fun," he said, smiling. "Our family never really does anything for Thanksgiving. Our big holiday is Easter, which is surprising because we're not extremely religious or anything. But that's our holiday."

She smiled, "well, have you already made Thanksgiving plans?"

"Not any I'm particularly crazy about," he replied, taking a program from one of the men in the front of the auditorium and leading her down to their seat in the seventh row. He sat on the end and she sat next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder lightly.

"Well, I'd love it if you'd consider coming to our thanksgiving," Pam said softly, running her thumb over his hand. "I know you have your own family and everything, but I'd like you to come if you want to."

He looked down at her, smiling. "You want me to come to the Beesly Family Thanksgiving?"

"Absolutely, I do," she said, scrunching her nose lightly and smiling back at him.

"I'm there," he said, putting his arm around her shoulder to pull her closer as the curtains drew and the lights darkened.

* * *

They'd left the theater arm in arm, laughing as they relayed the events of the day and the play they'd just seen. Jim was still flabbergasted that the fawn wasn't real, and Pam was still laughing at him for believing such a thing, even thirty minutes after the play had ended. They'd stopped at a new restaurant that had just opened in town called the Red Elephant, a put-together bar and grille that had specialized in desserts that pleased both Jim and Pam. They'd ordered a stack of elephant ears—dough shaped in the form of an elephant ear covered with cinnamon and butter—and were sitting at a small table sharing the fattening desserts and laughing.

"Okay, so then what happened?" Jim asked, taking a sip of his water and staring at Pam with his mouth opened wide.

Pam laughed, "I just let it go, you know… I mean, we were in this guy's car, and I'd been holding it for a while and I just, you know… let it go." Jim laughed loudly, clutching his side. "What? I was little! I had to go to the bathroom and you know… that's it… It just happened."

"How old were you!?" he asked, his mouth open wide.

"Um…eight," she said, looking away, smiling and letting out a small laugh. He laughed harder.

"Okay, I was definitely thinking, like, three," he said, smiling. She smiled back, reaching for an elephant ear. "Just promise me you won't pee in my car or anything."

"I'll try and hold it," she smiled, laughing. "Besides, I don't think it's the same if we're not broken down on the side of the road and you don't have a Jesus bumper sticker on your truck," she said, and he nodded, grinning.

He let out a long breath, sighing. "Oh man, that was good. Good story, good talk," she smiled, and he grinned back at her. He reached for an elephant ear, the excitement over the gooey cinnamon dough bubbling inside of him. "These things are so good."

"I know," Pam said, her mouth full with one already. "My dad used to take me to this little place back where I grew up," she stopped talking to swallow, "and they had the best desserts. Well, actually it was like a pastry breakfast place. We'd go every Saturday, and I always got this cream cheese and chocolate chip pastry. It was my favorite."

"Oh yeah? What was the place called? We'll have to go back," he said.

She shook her head lightly, "it closed down when I was twelve. It was called The Mill. I don't know what happened to it, but I miss those pastries."

He smiled. "You don't talk about your dad very much," he said. "It's nice to hear you talk about him."

"Really?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. "He's probably one of my favorite people in the world."

"Why's that?" Jim asked, focusing in on her as he wiped his hands on the napkin in front of him.

She smiled, thinking for a moment. "He just always made me feel special, you know? He's the one person in my life that's never clumped me together with everyone else. I was never just _one of the Beesly girls_ when it came to him. I was always just his Pam, you know?"

Jim nodded, and Pam continued. "I remember when I was little, my dad always made a huge to-do about taking his daughters out on dates," she chuckled lightly, looking away for a minute and then back at Jim. "It's funny. My sisters and I all had a 'daddy day'. Amanda's was Tuesdays, and Diana's was Thursdays, and mine was Saturday. Every Saturday morning we'd wake up and go get our pastry, and then we'd go to the hardware store so he could get something, but he always found something for the two of us to do that I would like. I don't know how many times he took me to a doll store." She laughed.

"That's really cool that your dad took you all on dates," Jim said, and Pam smiled softly, nodding. "It must have been really cool, you know, knowing that you had a day with your dad that was your day."

She smiled, her mind racing to how interesting it was that her Jim day had always been her daddy day. "Yeah, it was. He was really big on making sure we all knew how special we were and how loved we were. And that we were individuals. And I think he did it for a lot of reasons, other than just to spend time with each of us and strengthen our relationships. He always opened doors for us, and told us we looked pretty… and I guess it was his way of showing us how the boy we ended up with should treat us." She stopped and smiled lightly. "I guess I never caught onto that until like, now." Jim nodded smiling, as she pondered for a moment, before looking up and flashing him a wide grin. "I always loved having those weekly dates."

"When did you stop having them?" he asked, thoroughly interested in hearing about the Pamela Beesly dating history.

"When I met Roy," she said softly, taking a sip of her water. "Saturdays were just too long, and I didn't feel like I could be as open with my daddy as I should have been, so we just let them sizzle out."

Jim nodded, taking another sip of his water. "I really like that idea. I think I'll do it with my daughters one day. I… you know you hear so much about how much parents just love their children this extraneous amount, and I can't imagine loving anyone like I love…" he trailed off, looking straight at her, before swallowing and continuing, "their mother… so I would think it would be important to me to make sure that they know that kind of stuff. I wouldn't ever want them getting hurt."

She smiled, her voice soft. "You'll be a great father one day, Jim," she said. "You know, I've always heard that old saying that a woman becomes a mother when she gets pregnant and a man becomes a father when the baby is born…. I think you'll be different."

He chuckled. "How so?"

She smiled. "Just the way you talk. You'll be that father that wears those t-shirts that says he's going to be a daddy and goes to baby showers and does all of that pregnancy stuff with your wife. It'll be endearing."

"You mean the t-shirts that have arrows and say stuff like _I knocked her up _and _My sperm swims faster than yours_?"

She laughed, her face turning red. "Yeah, you'll be that dad," she smiled. "And it'll make your wife fall even more in love with you than ever."

"You think? It's not too sissy or anything?" he asked, scratching his head.

She smiled, cocking her head to the side and laughing. "No, I think it's really cute." He laughed, rolling his eyes, and she grinned. "Can you believe we're like, at that age."

"What age?" Jim asked.

"The age to get married and have kids and everything," she said. "It's seemed so far away, you know… Like something in the back of your mind that you daydream about, and now, god, Jim, we're like 28 now. That's like, you know, the age to get married and have kids and stuff."

"Yeah, I guess it does seem to be right around the corner, huh?" Jim said. "But maybe not, I mean, you're not engaged or anything," he said, winking.

"Yeah, that's true," she said, laughing. "But who knows. Maybe soon I will be."

"You gotta find that guy first," he said, and she laughed, smiling.

"And who says I haven't?"

"Have you?"

She smiled slyly, "maybe." He smiled as the check came, and he paid it quickly, getting up out of his seat and taking her hand.

"Let's go for a walk before I take you home, eh?" he asked, and she giggled.

"Are you a Canadian mountie now?" she asked, and he laughed. "Eh?"

"Oh shush you," he said, pulling her outside. "I know the walk won't be the most scenic thing ever," he said, glancing toward the street lights and cars honking, "but it's still a walk and it gives us a little bit more time."

"More time is good," she smiled. They walked in silence for a moment, holding hands, when she looked up at him softly, "only one more left."

"One more what?" he asked, looking up at the sky.

"Date. We're already on Y," she said softly, following his gaze.

"Oh, yeah." He said, his voice lower and a bit sad. She wrinkled her forehead, before smiling up at him and kissing his cheek.

"But you know, after that is Thanksgiving, and you're coming with me to that. And then there are things like dance recitals with the girls, and shopping trips and mistletoes to hang… and you know, I've always thought the alphabet was too short anyway."

He stopped in his tracks, looking at her lightly. "What?"

She smiled. "You're that dense, are you?"

"Dense? What are you—"

"Z's not the end, buddy," she said, smiling.

He grinned, "well, when is the end then?"

She paused for a moment, her finger to her chin even though she knew her answer before he'd asked. "The end? I don't even know what that means," she said, picking up her pace and walking some more.

"Oh, so you don't want there to be an end?" he asked, teasing her lightly.

"Why would I?" she asked, leaning her head against his shoulder as they walked. It was somewhat uncomfortable, but she didn't care.

"I don't know," he said, laughing. "I only made you promise me A-Z, and I guess I never thought I'd be lucky enough to get any more than that."

She smiled, stopping and pulling his hands to stop. "I'm the lucky one," she said, putting her hands on his face and pulling him down to kiss her. He kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her back as she let her fingers wander through his hair. She pulled away, exhaling slowly, and he smiled at her. He opened his mouth, words threatening to stutter out, but she put her hand over his and smiled, "you know. I thought you might be able to make me think men weren't scum by the end of this, but I never thought you'd make me fall in love with you."

"What?" he said against her hand, and she smiled, taking her hand from his mouth and kissing him softly.

"I said I'm in love with you," she said softly, staring him in the eyes, and he grinned. She couldn't see his smile because they were so close, but she could feel it radiating just from the twinkle in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, and she laughed lightly. "Damn it," he said, and she gave him a funny look. "You're in…" He grinned, pulling her against him and kissing her passionately, and she laughed against him, smiling against his lips. "Wow."

She smiled, jumping into his arms and wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him tight. He hugged her tightly, smiling against her neck the entire time. "God, I love you so much," he said softly.

She smiled. "ditto," she said, and he laughed, kissing her once more before turning back to the road and swinging their arms back and forth. "You know what I love most about my daddy?" she asked, and he shook his head lightly, looking at her. "He was the one person in my life that _always_ looked like he was happy to see me," she said smiling, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Wow," Jim said, kissing the top of her head. "That's got to be the greatest compliment any daughter could give her father." She smiled, and he patted her arm lightly, kissing her cheek. "I hope my daughters will say the same thing about me.'

"They will," Pam said, smiling.

"How do you know?" he asked.

She laughed. "Because you are just like my father, and our daughters will be just like me." He smiled.

"Our daughters?"

"What?" she said, smiling. "You think I'm going to get monogrammed hand towels with you and not make you give me a few little girls?"

"No, you wouldn't be that cruel," he said, smiling.

* * *

bum bum bum. Z is next. AND SUMMER IS HERE. Reviews appreciated. :D


	27. Z is for Zales

First off, I apologize for the delay. I have been writing this chapter in bits for at least a month, and I thought I'd have more time to write, but work and life have kept me busy and I am deeply sorry. I will try and finish this next chapter soon—I'm ready for this story to be over. In a good way. But thanks for sticking with me. You guys are awesome.

Review Replies:

Nat-You'll see! Sorry I made you wait so long, life just got hectic! Thanks!  
Henantz- Aww, thank you! I really try hard to make them good and in character, so I appreciate all you have to say!  
KT- We had dates like that with my dad too. My day was Monday. LOVED IT. And Z is indeed for Zales. Somewhat, at least ;)  
RabidFrodo- AHH! Isn't Prince Caspian great?  
Coffee Obsessed- That aint no etch-a-sketch!  
LoveMeSome- I have no idea. And elephant ears exist, and it's funny you mention them because the Red Elephant is a restaurant here that does them, and I only go there once a month at MOST, and the last time I updated I guess I did, and then today I did too! Hah.  
Ruli- PM me. I have to tell you something. Also, thanks so much! I totally cry more during sports movies too. The dessert really does exist : ) and I hope Jim has fun at Pam's family's thanksgiving (maybe… badger me about it later). I wouldn't cheat you out of Z.  
Michelle- First off, thanks for the reminder : ) but for once in my life I was actually on top of updating, haha. And also, thanks so much…. And no, I didn't forget about that part. I'd already written it in. I wasn't planning on having it completely play out in this story, but you'll see it. Remind me about the thanksgiving sequel and I will see what I can do. It'll most likely be a very few shot though, haha.  
Lulupanda- I hope it didn't disappoint : ) but who knows? And I loved that line too, thanks. : )  
Anon- Exactly what I was thinking.  
Penguin Patrol- hahaha yeah. And goodbye toby, don't get me started on THAT.  
Dancer- Aww thanks!  
Spectacular Spects- Aww thanks. Here's Z  
Squint Squad- Aww. I love Jessica too. Ahsfjahsfs  
Kerber- Aww thank you!!  
Alison- Wow! High praise thanks!! You're funny. PS I updated my blog.  
Tophet- I am sad the end is near, but I am also ready. Z is for Zales : )  
CaraB- Awwww thanks so much love! The story will end at Z+1. I just couldn't do it yet. And thanks so much on the rushing comment—I try so hard not to make them rush because I feel like time is so crucial. We will see what I do next.  
Tori- Wow! Thanks so much for reviewing! I hope you check it today and find this one : ) Thanks so much.  
YoungforEternity- Hah! None of those my darling!  
Ashley- Sorry, sorry, sorry! Anticipation, over!  
Bethy- : ) Thanks!  
Michelle- Here you go : ) and I have been, but not nearly as bad!

* * *

Jim smiled, watching her sleep. Somewhere in the middle of the night she'd turned to face him while she slept, and now he was glad for that. He loved watching her sleep. She slept with a smile on—he didn't know anyone else that did that, but she did, and he was thankful for it. It was such a beautiful sight—the curled lips, closed eyes, scrunched nose, and her hair a mess around her head. He smiled, running his hands through her curls, unable to keep his hands out of her hair even when he knew he was in danger of waking her up prematurely.

She sighed softly, and he smiled, the wheels in his mind turning over why she was possibly sighing and smiling, and what she could possibly be dreaming of. He watched her for a few more minutes, thinking of how beautiful she was until he leaned down and kissed her softly, sure it wouldn't wake her up as he started to head toward the shower. He'd only gotten to the door of the bathroom when he heard her pipe up sleepily behind him, "the kiss and ditch, huh?"

He smiled, turning around to look at her sitting up, rubbing her eyes. "Only the best for you, you know," he said, winking lightly and turning to walk back to the bed. She smiled up at him, and he climbed on the bed, kissing her softly. She ran her fingers up through his hair and held his head as she kissed him back, letting her lips linger on his a moment longer before she broke away.

She smiled at him, "I'm glad you save that for me. It just wouldn't be fair if anyone else got those kind of kisses," she said, sighing mid sentence with satisfaction.

He laughed, "Oh, that? That was nowhere near my best."

"Oh?" she asked, grinning, playing along with his charade.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear slowly, "babe, I've got moves you've never seen before," he said, standing up and walking back toward the bathroom.

"Okay, Julia Roberts," she said, catching his reference to _My Best Friend's Wedding_. He laughed. "Okay, so what's the plan for today?"

"It's going to be a long day, but you're perfectly beautiful in jeans," he said, closing the door halfway between him, unwilling to close it completely on her, but at the same time, remembering that "the bathroom is for pwivacy" according to his nieces and nephews. She smiled watching him, laughing at how dorky he really could be.

"What are we doing?" she asked, making a face as she listened to the silence waiting to see if she'd caught him in a moment of weakness.

"Yeah, right Pam," he said, and she giggled to herself, knowing he was probably rolling his eyes from behind the door. She heard the shower water start running, and she smiled, laying back in bed and listening to the sounds of the water and staring up at the ceiling, letting her thoughts wander.

It'd been a long time since she'd felt this way about someone, perhaps she never really had. She could easily see herself with him, bringing babies home from the hospital and attending family reunions and graduations and weddings, rocking chairs, and wheelchair races. She could see it all with him, and even though in her mind, an older Pam and Jim looked the same as present-day Jim and Pam with slightly grayer hair, she loved the look of the future. She loved the promise she could see in his eyes.

She found something eerily exciting and at the same time, calming, about knowing that she was laying on the bed in her apartment, listening as he took a shower. There was nothing big or revolutionary about it, but at the same time, there was. Something homey about it. It seemed to dawn on her at that moment that he'd done exactly what she told every one of her guests to do. He'd made himself at home, but in more ways than one. He'd become home to her.

She smiled, looking around the room and noticing simple things, like his tennis shoes in the corner of the room from when he'd gone running earlier that week. His watch on the dresser. A picture of the two of them he'd brought over earlier that week. His work bag. The book he was reading. All mixed in with her stuff. For the first time, she noticed that it actually looked like there were two people sharing her bedroom. That it was their bedroom. The thought of it made her smile.

She climbed slowly out of bed and walked over to the dresser, opening the drawers and pulling out a pair of pants and a nicer top. She could hear the water still running and glanced toward the door, grinning as she stepped into her new outfit quickly, discarding her pajamas into the dirty hamper, and picking up a pair of his pants off the floor and throwing them in as well. She smiled when she thought of it. She wasn't sure why, but something about doing someone else's laundry seemed really intimate to her. Mixing laundry had always been one of those signs to her that things were going well or that they were committed to each other. And she'd just thrown his pants into the laundry with hers without even thinking about it.

She put on a bracelet she'd gotten years ago at her graduation from her father, smiling as she fingered the small handiwork and the pattern of the silver. She poked at her ears for a few seconds with her earrings before finally finding the hole she was looking for, and then she ran a brush through her hair quickly, pinning the strands normally in her face back with clips. She looked down at the dresser, then over at the door to the bathroom, then back, smiling. She pulled a drawer out and her mind was spinning so fast she didn't hear the water stop, or him emerge from the bathroom as she emptied a few pairs of jeans from the drawer.

"What are you doing?" he asked, and she jumped, more from the surprise that he was there when he hadn't been than anything else.

"I'm emptying out a drawer for you," she said, smiling as she turned around. "If you want one, I mean."

He smiled, "really?" She nodded and he laughed to himself. "That would be great," he said, and she smiled back. "You look really nice," he said.

"It's just jeans and a top," she said, shaking her head lightly.

"I know. So it must just be you, since the outfit isn't anything to write home about," he said, winking. She laughed, smiling as she looked over his outfit.

"You clean up well," she said, eyeing his jeans and polo shirt. "I like the polo. You don't wear it too often."

"I save it for special occasions," he said, and she smiled, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, like what?"

"Saturday mornings," he said, and she rolled her eyes. "I'm ready when you are," he said, and she nodded, smiling as he took her hand and led her to the car. They climbed in slowly, and he'd only driven a block outside of her house when he heard her stomach growl. He saw her hand go to cover it, and he smiled as she blushed lightly. "Hungry, miss Beesly?"

"Just a little bit," she smiled, and he returned her smile, reaching his right hand over to rest on top of her left.

"Well, good thing we're going to breakfast then, huh?" he asked, and she smiled. They pulled into a little breakfast place called_ Broken Egg_ and she smiled, getting out of the car quickly and racing to the sidewalk to wait for him. He laughed, following her, locking his car so it beeped twice behind him. "In a hurry, Beesly?" She grinned, nodding, and he led her inside. "Okay, so it's a sit down restaurant, but if you want a pastry, you have to order at the counter. They also have eggs and bacon and all of the works of a real breakfast." She smiled, and he grinned, leaning over to whisper in her ear, "and I called ahead, and they do serve everything bagels with cream cheese, so you're in luck there."

She grinned up at him, heading over to the pastry counter and looking at them all, licking her lips. Her smile brightened as she pointed at a danish down at the bottom of the display case, and he knew instantly why she was pointing at it. "That's the kind I used to get," she said, smiling. "Cream cheese and chocolate chips. It was really good."

He smiled, "get it again, then." She grinned, nodding as she asked the man behind the counter to get one for her and one for Jim, and they went and sat down in a quiet table in the corner. She tore off a bit of her danish and ate it, smiling. "So, will it do?" he asked.

"Will what do?" she asked, taking another bite.

"When I bring our daughter here on our dates, do you think it'll do? Or should we keep looking for a better breakfast memory?"

"I think it'll do," she said, taking a sip of water. "After all, it has the chocolate chip danish, and what girl doesn't love that?"

"No idea," he said, stuffing his face with his own as he grabbed the menu. "You're probably still hungry, yeah?" he asked, and she nodded, grinning. The waiter came and they ordered eggs and bacon and the fixings, and then she smiled at him, continuing the conversation earlier.

"So, you're planning on taking our daughter here on dates?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, smiling. "My wife said her dad used to take her out on dates every Saturday, so I thought, hey, continue the tradition. Besides, she's one of the two most important people in my life, so she should get her own day."

Pam smiled at him, "what's your daughter's name?"

"Pamela Morgan Jr." he said matter of factly, and she laughed, swatting him across the table.

"We are not naming our daughter that," she said, and he laughed, grinning.

"Oh? Then what are we naming her?" Jim asked, and Pam laughed, shrugging. "No, come on. Give me a name."

"Eustance," Pam said, and Jim laughed. "Gretchen." Jim gave her a lopsided smile. "Kamea," Jim looked up at her, the reaction to Eustance and Gretchen not matching up with his reaction to Kamea. He noticed she was biting her lip slightly, and he knew she'd just thrown out a real option, not one of her fake, play date Barbie doll options she had earlier.

"You know, I really like that one," he said. "It's pretty."

"Really?" she asked, taking a fake sip of water. He eyed her straw, laughing. "I know, nervous habit," she said.

"Okay, so, I'll take Kamea here on Saturday mornings…" he said, "and I'll make sure she gets the danish her mom likes."

Pam smiled, "I like this."

"Like what?" Jim asked.

"Talking about the future like it's actually going to happen," she said.

"It is going to happen," he said, smiling, and she returned his smile, laughing to herself. "Bet on it, Beesly."

"I'll cash in my chips," she said, finishing her breakfast off. He took a bite of eggs, and she continued. "So, what's after this. I don't see this starting with Z."

He laughed, "I'm pacing myself." She rolled her eyes, and he smiled. "I have some things I have to pick up at Lowes."

"Lowes, huh?" she asked, smiling. "This is starting to sound eerily familiar."

"Don't worry, I've got more up my sleeve than just copying your father's brilliant plans for dating," he said, winking as he paid the bill. She smiled and he stood up, taking her arm and locking it with his.

She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you too," he said, squeezing her hand. "So, what prompted you to give me a dresser drawer?"

"I was looking around the bedroom and there was all of this stuff that was yours that we've accumulated, and I guess I just thought you should have a place for your stuff. I want you to have a place for your stuff when you come over," she said. "You know, really be at home."

He smiled, "well, I already feel at home with you, but thanks." They were silent for a moment before Jim spoke again, "I was going to just show you when we got there, but I got you a key made."

She smiled, "that was romantic."

He laughed, "sorry, let me start over." He pulled his keys out of his pocket and worked the key off his keychain, smiling as he handed it to her. "Pam, I want you to have this."

"A key to your house?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah," he said, kissing her cheek. "I want you to feel at home."

"I do," she said, smiling.

"Good," he said. "And don't worry about coming over too often or not often enough or whatever," he said, shaking his head. "You could be there every moment of every day, and I wouldn't mind one bit."

She smiled, "well, that's good to know."

* * *

He pulled the car into the Dunder Mifflin parking lot and parked it in the middle of the parking lot, rather than in any designated spaces. "What are we doing here?" she asked.

"We're going to have a picnic," he said. She raised one eyebrow, and he smiled, patting her hand lightly. She smiled back, climbing out of the car as he went around to the trunk and pulled out a blanket and a picnic basket.

"So fancy," she said, smiling and reaching to help. He shook his head at her, winking as he set the basket down on the ground and spread the blanket over the roof of the car. "I don't think I've ever had a picnic atop a corolla," she said, laughing.

"Well, then you're in for a treat, Pam. It's the only way to have a picnic," he said, and she smiled, climbing up on top of the car and sitting down on top of a picture of his old friends that was sewn into the quilt. He picked up the picnic basket and set it next to her, taking her hand as he climbed up next to her on the roof. He quickly moved the picnic basket and scooted closer, opening it on his lap.

"What's for lunch?" she asked, smiling. "Caviar and wine?"

"Well, they were all out of caviar and wine at casa de la Halpert, but I did bring grape soda and tuna sandwiches."

"Even better," she smiled, taking one a sandwich and a bottle of soda as he handed it to her. She took a few bites of her sandwich, smiling. "This is really good."

"I am an excellent chef," he replied, grinning.

"I don't think making a tuna sandwich and burning macaroni and cheese makes you a chef, baby," she said, smiling. He made a face of mock indignation, and she smiled, resting her head on his shoulder and cuddling closer to him as she took a bite. "You know, the kids have an art show in a few weeks."

"Oh yeah? Will they be ready? When is it?" he asked, smiling down at her.

"It's to close out the semester," she said. "December 12th. I have to pick the best pieces of art to showcase, and then the guitar program at the school is going to play songs to go with each piece, I think. They're going to flash them digitally as they play, and then afterwards the kids will be standing up by their paintings in the room."

"That sounds really cool," Jim said. "Are you nervous about picking?"

"Kind of," Pam said, chewing another bite. "Mostly I'm just nervous because it's kind of like… I don't know. How good it is speaks to how well I've been doing, you know?"

"Well, then I'm sure it'll be wonderful," Jim said, smiling at her. She looked down at the hood of the car, and he touched her hand softly. "Do you feel like you've been doing a good job?"

"I think so," Pam said. "I think the kids like me, and I've been teaching them stuff, but it's harder than it looks. You know, coming up with lesson plans, disciplining… And just getting used to the way the school runs and everything. I mean, I like it. I just feel kind of weird."

He rubbed her back lightly, "well, have you made friends with any of the teachers? That might help, if you found a friend at work that could help you figure out where to keep your toes."

"Yeah, I have one, I guess. But she's new too. Her name is Holly, and she's the music teacher, so she has the same problems I do, you know, where you see the kids every day but you have a more broad deadline and you have to choose kids and it's just hard. You know?"

"Yeah, I can see how it would be," Jim said, squeezing her shoulder. "But you know, the dust will settle and you'll realize you're doing brilliantly. I have no doubt you'll be the best art teacher ever."

"Really?" Pam said, smiling up at him.

"Really."

"Not even a little doubt?" she asked, a sparkle in her eye as she teased him.

"Well, the only thing I think would make you a bad art teacher is if you murdered or did the deed with a student. Have you done that?" She shook her head no. "Well, then it's flying colors and puppies and rainbows for you." She smiled, nodding against his chest.

"So, you know how I needed to go get a new basketball this week because my old one's gotten a bit ratty," he started, and she looked at him nodding, her eyebrow raised. "Well, I got the the sports store, and I was chatting it up with Bob, who's the manager."

"Sounds like you," she smiled, and he laughed.

"Well, we got on the topic of wives and kids, and I told him about you and how you just got your new fantastic job that you're amazing at," he stopped to smile at her, and she smiled back, straightening in her seat a little more. "So, he started asking what I was doing and how we knew each other, since I don't hang out with jailbait on a regular basis," Jim said, and Pam rolled her eyes.

"Okay," she said, moving her hand in a circular motion as if to tell him to speed up the process a bit more.

"So, anyway, I told him about Dunder Mifflin, and how selling paper wasn't as much fun as it was cracked up to be," he chuckled at his own statement, and she laughed lightly, looking at him. "Anyway, not only did I sell him all of his paper for the rest of the year," Jim started, and Pam's eyes went wide as her hand went up for a high five. He high fived her back, "yeah, that wasn't really the coolest part of the story."

"Sorry, tell me the coolest part," she said, bouncing lightly.

"They're actually looking for a new head of sales for that branch," Jim said, and Pam's eyes went wide. "And they have a few applicants, but the guy really liked me, and he wants me to come in for an interview on Tuesday. I haven't even filled out the application yet, but you know, it's a lead."

"Jim!" Pam squealed, tightening her arms around his neck and hugging him. "That's so great!"

"Yeah, I know," he said, pointing his finger at her lightly as he spoke. "It would be, like, selling sports equipment to sports teams or schools, handling orders for team jerseys or what not. And I would totally get an awesome discount."

"Awesome discount is awesome," Pam nodded, grinning.

"And, whoever they hire has to go to this nine-week training session in Philadelphia this summer." Jim said, and Pam looked at him, her mouth half-open. "It starts a week before yours and ends the week before too, but still. That's better than nothing, right?"

Pam smiled, "Jim, that's great news. Seriously. I'm so proud of you."

"A deal's a deal, Pamela Beesly," he said, smiling. "I'm excited about it. It sounds like a good fit for me, doesn't it?"

"It really does," she said, as he took a bite of his tuna fish sandwich. "Do you have any chips in there?" she asked, reaching into the basket and pulling out a big bag of French Onion Sun Chips. "Ah, only the best for me," she said, grinning as she popped one in her mouth. He looked down and checked his watch, and she pouted. "Bored of me already?"

"Not at all," Jim said, smiling. "I was just checking to see how much time we have."

"You have something to do?" she asked, licking her lips and taking a sip of her grape soda.

"I'm expecting someone, yeah," he said.

"What time?" she asked. "Who?"

"11:45," he said, looking at his watch. "It's nearly noon."

"Well, do we need to get you home?" she asked, already starting to pack up her picnic stuff.

"No, he's meeting us here," Jim said, right as a car pulled into the parking lot. "There he is," he said, hopping off the car and giving Pam his hand to help her down. She smiled as they walked toward the car, before the door opened and she squealed, running around the front of the car and jumping into her father's arms.

"Daddy!" she said, smiling as she hugged him. Jim watched as they embraced, smiling at the soft exchanges of pleasantry that followed, before walking over to the side of the car and reaching his hand out.

"Mr. Beesly, nice to see you again," Jim smiled, shaking the man's hand. He nodded and returned the gesture, before Jim turned to Pam, putting a hand on her upper back. "I'm letting your dad take you out for part of the date," he said, and she smiled. "We'll meet up for dinner."

"Really?" Pam asked, smiling as she hugged him tight. "Thank you."

Jim winked at her as Pam and her Dad got in his car and drove off to start their portion of the date.

* * *

She walked along the cobblestone paths of Scranton's only park, her hand in her father's as she looked around her. It was early November, so it was bitingly chilly as snow fell down all around her, and yet she couldn't get over how beautiful it was. She'd never loved the cold—she'd always found it to be too uncomfortable for it to ever seem pretty. She remembered all of those days in elementary school, sitting at her desk watching movies about Frosty the Snowman and children who got snow days and wondering why the snow on the TV always looked so much more pretty than the slush outside. Now she realized it was all in the way she viewed the snow, and not in the actual reality of it.

They were walking in silence, something she was accustomed to when it came to her father. He had never been a very talkative man, but instead had been one of those men who talked only when something needed to be said. However, he was the best listener in the world, and Pam could remember joking with her sisters about his less talkative side being the reason he and her mom had worked so well—Ellen had never stopped talking. And yet, Pam couldn't help wonder if it was one of those _which came first the chicken or the egg?_ types of equations.

"So," her father said, and Pam looked up at him, smiling, awaiting his next dose of words. "You love this Jim character?" She grinned, nodding slightly. "And he loves you?" her father asked, looking over at her. She smiled a shy smile and nodded lightly, pressing her lips together in a _mmm._

They took another lap around the park silently.

* * *

Jim walked into the mall, his hands in his pocket as he shuffled down the unfamiliar halls. He'd been to the mall plenty of times, even this particular mall, but he'd never memorized the layout. He was only fairly certain the store he was looking for was even a part of this mall—he couldn't remember seeing it in there, but then again, he didn't pay attention to the mall when he went all that much anyway. Normally, it was just as a tagalong so that when Pam signed the card "Love, Pam and Jim" her conscience didn't fire up and remind her that it was really only from her.

He'd always heard girls talking about how great the mall was, and how it gave them jitters to walk into a new store, or buy the dress the mannequin had worn, or whatever it was about swiping that credit card and getting that 55 piece of heaven. He had never understood it, but walking briskly through the mall, looking for that one store all of a sudden made him at least appreciate it, if not understand it a tad bit.

He could only compare his nerves to the year they'd gone to state championships. He'd been so excited about it, his stomach had rumbled and tossed and turned like it never had before in his entire life, and he couldn't help but feel supremely nauseous and supremely excited all at the same time. This was like that. The only difference was that even as a high school senior he'd known that the state championships weren't the biggest thing in his life. He'd known his worries were just for the here and now. This stomach jumbling sensation was there for a reason. He knew this trip to the mall changed his entire life.

He took a few more steps and stopped in front of the store he was looking for. He took a deep breath and took a step inside of the small jewelry kiosk, heading straight for the engagement rings as he tapped his foot against the carpet nervously. He'd never been in Zales before, and even though he'd heard all about the prices of such kinds of jewelry from friends and brothers and what not, it was different seeing it up close and next to a plethora of rings to choose from. He found it oddly disconcerting that he was about to spend hundreds of dollars on a wedding ring when he might very well be changing jobs in the near future, and when he wasn't even planning on giving it to her anytime soon.

They'd been walking for a few minutes in silence, neither of them offering up too much information or conversation. She'd almost slipped in the snow once and he'd caught her, but other than that it had been only a peaceful walk, slow and leisurely. "Are you going to marry this Jim character?" She only nodded slightly, and when she looked up to see her father's reaction, all she saw was a knowing smile.

He looked down at the jewelry cases, squinting to see the rings lined up, none of them being perfectly Pam. Some were too elegant and elaborate, and others were not elegant or elaborate enough. It was a catch-22 with her—she wouldn't wear anything too fancy or big or clunky, but at the same time, anything that didn't sparkle the way the big ones didn't do justice to how he felt about her, or what he thought she deserved. And then he saw it.

"That one," he said, pointing at the ring, a grin on his face but his heart a bundle of nerves.

* * *

They'd walked around the park a few times when Pam spotted a small child playing in the snow with what looked to be her older brother. She smiled, watching as they made snow angels and threw snowballs, and she stopped and giggled lightly, watching them. She felt her father stop next to her, and she knew he was watching her and not the children, so she looked up at him and smiled, laughing.

"I've never seen you this happy and in love," he said, smiling as he patted her head. She grinned, looking up at him.

"How do you know I'm happy and in love?" she asked, grinning.

"It's in the way you talk about him," her dad said, shrugging lightly.

Pam's forehead scrunched up as she stared at her father in confusion. "I haven't said more than a few words about him since you got here."

"Exactly."

* * *

He got into the car and opened the little black box he'd just spent more than a month's paycheck on and stared at it. He touched the diamond in the center, moving it around, smiling as he closed his eyes and imagined the ring on her finger. It looked even more beautiful there than it did in the box, and even though he knew that his proposal was weeks, if not months away, he couldn't wait to slide the ring on her finger. He smiled, opening his eyes and glancing at the clock. He was meeting her and her father for dinner in a little over half an hour, but he couldn't keep his mind on dinner. Not when he was holding the ring that would one day seal his fate as her husband.

His mind drifted back to Tuesday night, when he'd come home early and found her sitting on his couch, drinking tea and reading a book as some sort of dinner cooked in his kitchen. He'd been able to smell it all the way outside, and when he bounded through the door wondering if his house was on fire, she'd greeted him with a smile, a kiss on the cheek, and a "you're home early."

"Michael let us go home early," he'd said, his first lie he'd ever told her in their entire history of being friends, other than the lies he told himself that triggered lies to her about his feelings. But this was an intentional lie, done for her own good. And as he sat in the car, fingering her engagement ring in his hand, his mind drifted back to her on the couch with a new book, and where he'd really been on that Tuesday afternoon.

_He sat in the driveway of Pam's childhood home, a small two-story brick house with a garden in the back on the corner of two streets named after trees that weren't even populous in Pennsylvania. There was a dark blue Honda in the driveway, an open window on the second floor, and grass that looked like it was cut and watered nearly every day. He took a deep breath, checking the rearview mirror to make sure there was nothing in his teeth or on his face, and then climbed out of the car, trying to walk with confidence in a hope that perhaps it would actually bring about some that he was sorely missing due to the jitters of meeting his girlfriend's father for the first time._

_He didn't know much about Pam's father, other than that his name was Richard, he was a quiet stubborn man, and he sold furniture for a living. Pam had only mentioned him in passing, random quirks here and there. If he asked her something about her father, she answered it, but she was careful not to go too far into details. He wasn't sure if it was intentional or not, but he did remember hearing her talk to her mother one day at the office about how girls always married their fathers, and she was so scared that when she met the man she was going to marry, he'd get scared off when he found out how similar they were._

_So rather than asking Pam to introduce the two of them, Jim had taken the liberty and called Richard Beesly on Monday, asking if perhaps on Tuesday he could stop by for a few hours for a chat. He was pleasantly surprised when it was a go, so that morning he'd woken up, gotten dressed for the interview, and then headed over to the Beesly home around 1 PM. He was still dressed for his interview, but he'd messed with his hair a little bit, not wanting to give off the air of trying too hard or wanting to impress too much. When he knocked on the door, Richard had answered, shaking his hand firmly and having him sit in the living room for a moment while he finished a phone call and got some water for the two of them._

_Sitting in the living room, Jim was mesmerized by all of the pictures that were all over the place. It was a modest living room, and there was a TV in one corner and a computer in the other, a couch and a love seat and a coffee table and a bookshelf, but mostly, there was just pictures everywhere. On the entertainment stand, on the bookshelf, on the walls. He smiled, standing up and looking at them, noticing quickly how many of them were of Pam and her sisters in one form or another, and how few of them were of anyone else._

_He smiled as he saw pictures of Diana and Pam playing in the water sprinklers as little girls, and pictures of Amanda and her father dancing when she was only a small child. He saw Pam's high school graduation picture, a picture of her holding Amanda when she was born, a huge grin on her face. He saw pictures of them with their arms around each other's shoulders, looking out into the sunset. A picture of the three girls at Diana's wedding, and a picture of Diana, Amanda, Pam, Eva and Hilary, and Pam's mother all at some brunch what looked to be only a year ago. He smiled as he walked around the room, finally stopping at one of the walls where there were three collages of pictures, each one dedicated to a different Beesly daughter._

_He stopped at the one of Pam and stared, smiling. Her prom picture, a picture from what looked to be some sort of little league softball game. A picture of her at an art fair, and one of her eating a popsicle, her front two teeth missing and cherry residue all over her face. A picture of her doing a cannonball into a pool when she was about nine, and a picture of her mom and dad holding her as a newborn. And then, in the very center of the entire collage was the picture that made his heart nearly melt, and his feet almost gave way from under him._

_She was three years old, dressed beautifully in a pale blue dress, her mother's red heels on her feet and pearls around her neck. Her hair was clearly put up by a three-year-old hairdresser, a princess' tiara on her head. She was smiling in a way that was more like a laugh, and it looked as if someone had snapped the picture just in the middle of one of Pam's famous giggles She was staring up at her father, a look of awe and reverence on her face as she held on to his fingers, her feet on top of his. He had one hand on her back, the other in her hand, and she had one hand gripping onto his leg, the other holding onto his. He was looking down at her, and Jim was awed by the look he gave his daughter It was the kind of look only described, never seen. One of those hallmark moments where all of the love and admiration you have for someone spills out into your expression, and you're at a loss as to how you will ever explain to them what you were feeling when you looked at them that way._

_He heard her father clear his throat behind him, and he turned around, feeling somewhat embarrassed for invading what was obviously such a personal moment between the two of them. It was as if in that moment he understood exactly why it was so hard for fathers to let their daughters go, and he suddenly felt so guilty of stealing Richard Beesly's little princess._

_Her father handed him a glass of water, asked him to sit down on the couch, and Jim obeyed quickly, somewhat in reverent fear of the man just because of the way he looked at Pam with such love and adoration. All of a sudden, more than anything else, the feeling of wanting to please him and wanting to show him how much he loved Pam washed over him._

_"How was your interview?" Richard asked, and Jim smiled, nodding his head lightly as he crossed one leg over the other._

_"Oh, I think it went pretty well. They are interviewing a few other people, but I think I've got a good shot. I hope I do, at least. I would really like that job. He told me he wants me to come back again next week for a second round of interviews, so I guess we'll see how that goes."_

_"Well, I hope it all works out for you," Richard said. "I know you'll do fine wherever you are. Pam says you're an excellent salesman."_

_"I try. I mean, it's hard to get into selling paper, but I do it because, you know, you've got to put food on the table," Jim said. "But I'd rather sell basketballs. That seems like more fun."_

_"Well, it's important to have a job that makes you happy, otherwise nobody around you will ever be happy, no matter how much food you put on the table," her father said, looking him in the eye. Jim could tell the statement was loaded with other implications, and he took his step in to change the topic of conversation to his favorite topic. Pam._

_"Right, and that's why I'm looking. Working at Dunder-Mifflin made me happy when Pam was there, but now that she's gone I've realized I have to do more than just be a paper salesman. So I'm looking. I want to find something that makes me happy," he said. "Other than your daughter, I mean."_

_"She told me you really encouraged her to take that teaching job. She seems to really like it a lot," her father said, smiling lightly._

_"She does. She's having a tough time adjusting, I think, but she's really loving her work. She says the day goes by fast and she enjoys the students and their work and everything about it, really. And she's really good at it. I think it's a great fit for her."_

_"I do too, I'm glad you were able to convince her to take it," he said, and they sat in silence for a moment. "We've been trying to get her to take a job like that for years, but she never would."_

_"Why not?" Jim asked, forehead wrinkling._

_"She always said there was too much she'd leave behind if she left," her father said, and Jim nodded, smiling lightly._

_He took a deep breath, "I love your daughter very much, sir," he said softly, and Richard looked up, staring at him. "She's not the person I expected to be with, but ever since the day I met her she's been the person I've wanted to be with. And that's not going to change anytime soon. Or anytime ever."_

_"It takes more than love," her father said, without a trace of a smile on his face._

_Jim nodded. "Yes sir, it does. But I'm committed to her. I don't believe in getting married just because you're in love, and I certainly don't believe in getting divorced just because you fell out of it. I think Pam and I could make a life together. I have confidence we could get through anything by each other's side. It's not just about love, but that's a lot of it. I'm not going to leave her."_

_"What if she wants to leave?" he asked, and Jim's face scrunched as he took in the question._

_"I'll fight like hell to keep her." He said softly. "I'm that embarrassing type of in love with your daughter. I'd do absolutely anything to make her happy, and I want to give her the world, and it's without even thinking about it. I just want to do it because I love her and she's…" he trailed off for a minute before continuing. "She's it for me, sir. I just know she is. And she deserves more than I could ever give her, and there may be men out there who could give her more money or shelter or kids or whatever it is you want for her, but there's nobody out there who can love her like I can." He took a breath and looked up at her father, his insides shaking with fear at the proclamation he'd just made._

_Her father looked at him for a long moment, but Jim stayed silent. Richard licked his lips, leaned forward and offered his hand to Jim. Jim put his hand out, shook it firmly, and smiled. "So, when are you going to do it?"_

_"Do what, sir?" Jim asked, smiling lightly._

_"Ask her," he said. "When should I expect that phone call from my daughter?"_

_"I'm not sure. I feel like I should wait. You know, make sure she's ready and everything," he said. "I don't want to rush her." _

_"Well her mother and I want grandbabies, so don't waste too much time," he said, standing up._

_Jim chuckled, standing up as well and reaching out his hand. "You'll get your grandbabies, sir. I promise."_

* * *

She sat in the car next to her father, waiting in the parking lot at Cucinos for Jim's red corolla to pull into view. "What are you thinking about daddy?" she asked, looking over at her father. She'd learned to read his face over the years, and the face he was making—his forehead scrunched, his eyes clouded lightly—was a face he made when he was thinking about something. And she knew her father well enough to know that if she wanted to know what he was thinking about, she had to ask him.

"The difference between Roy and Jim," her father said, and Pam's eyes shot open in surprise as she looked at him, one eyebrow raised in perplexion. "I was never a huge fan of Roy."

"I know you weren't," she said softly. "I never knew why though."

He stroked his chin slowly, carefully choosing his words as he turned to face her. "You're my little girl, and nobody will ever be good enough for you." She looked at him, confusion and hurt on her face.

"I don't understand the difference then. If neither one of them is good enough for me, then why does it matter?"

"Roy never tried to be good enough for you," her father said. "That's the difference." She closed her mouth, silently mulling over his words as she leaned back in her seat. She watched the clock tick a minute, and then spoke slowly and softly.

"So what about Jim, then? How does he try to be good enough?" she asked, perplexed that her father seemed to know Jim so well when he'd only just met him hours ago.

"Jim pushes you to be your best. He's always trying to show you that he loves you, and he looks at you like you're his world. And he pushes himself to always be better for you," her father said. "A man in love with a woman will push for her to have a better life."

"How do you know all of this? You two barely talked when you picked me up," she said, eyeing him suspiciously. A red corolla pulled up next to them as he turned to her and smiled.

"Jim takes initiative," he said, just as her door opened and a hand was outstretched to take hers. She smiled, put her hand in Jim's, and let him help her out of the car.

* * *

He stood at the doorway to her apartment, smiling as she leaned against her door, fiddling with her keys. "What are you thinking?" he asked, smiling as he stared at her softly.

"Just about something my dad said," she smiled. "About you." He nodded lightly, and she smiled. "I just can't believe we're finished with the alphabet already."

"There's always the Greek alphabet," Jim said, winking. She smiled. "Besides, we're nowhere near over yet."

"Oh is that so?" she smiled, taking a step closer to him. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Perhaps," he smiled, kissing her lightly. She kissed him back for a few minutes before she pulled away, grinning.

"You've already met my dad, haven't you?" she asked softly, staring him in the eyes. He nodded, and she smiled. "When?"

"After my interview Tuesday," Jim replied. "I figured he should know me. Since I'm trying to make you happy and everything." She smiled and kissed his cheek, and he eyed her curiously. "What makes you ask?"

"He said today that the difference between you and Roy was that you were trying to be good enough for me, and Roy hadn't been. I wondered how he knew that," Pam said softly.

Jim smiled, "we talked for a few hours," he said, leaning in and kissing her softly. "And I know I will never, ever be good enough for you, but I'm still going to try until the day I die."

She smiled up at him, putting her hands on his face. "Thank you," she said softly, smiling. "I'm still just in awe of what you've done for me."

He smiled. "Hey, it's not like it was a chore," he laughed, and she joined in, smiling. "You know, I think it's funny. We're ending our adventure the same place we started it."

She looked around her, smiling as she felt the doorknob of her apartment and she remembered their first date, apartment hunting. She smiled softly, opening the door and pulling him inside lightly as she kissed his cheek. "The adventure is nowhere near over," she said softly.

* * *

And folks… The adventure isn't over. There's an epilogue. I have to write it, but it exists. So have no fear, smile and be happy. And yes, I've been planning on there being one since A, so you little stinkers will be happy to hear that. Big plans for the epilogue. And may I just say, I'm sorry I pulled an Office writers and cheated you out of a proposal. : ( If it makes you feel better, I have ideas for a new story that will be a one shot proposal scene, and hopefully I'll get to writing that one soon.

Since this is the last time I'll get to respond to what you say, please do review. And also, if any of you want to chat it up some more (or want to remind me and make me post more chapters, which is useful) please feel free to hit me up on AIM. carrots need ham. and without further adieu, I leave you to your commenting, and a new chapter, the last chapter will be up hopefully soon. But rest easy and be happy, and know you all are the bestest evers.


	28. The Win

A/N: Wow. I can't believe this story is finally over. I started it six months ago, and it seems ridiculous that it's already up and finished, but that's the way life works. I know I've gotten busier recently and left DOABH on the back burner, but it's coming back soon, too, I promise. Until then though, thanks for the ever awesome reviews, the wonderful conversations, and the amazing readers you all have been. I'm always up for suggestions both on stories I'm writing and on new stories, or just up to talk, and I'd love to get/keep in contact with all of you. My AIM is carrotsneedham and if you feel like it, shoot me an IM or a PM or whatever. I love to chat. And without further adieu:

Reader Responses:

Ruli- Wow! I love your reviews, and I miss chatting with you friend!! You're the best, and like you said, the epilogue can be days, or months, or decades down the line. I hope it doesn't disappoint.  
Nat- Oh thank you! You're quite wonderful, aren't you!?  
Ama.Dear- Of course. I swear I always do an epilogue haha  
Henantz- Oh thank you! I'm glad it makes you happy!! Sorry it was so long!  
Dancer- Yeah, don't we all want a guy like that.  
Kerber- Where have you been on AIM my friend? Haha. And than you so much! You are a wonderful reviewer and I value your responses muchly!  
BigTuna - Wow! Thank you. That means so much to me. One of my biggest struggles/goals as a writer is to show a steady progression from what a character is into what they become. I really appreciate you saying I've done that! I wasn't devastated about it either to be honest ;)

Alaska- I have no idea what that means, but discounts are awesome. Hahaha.  
Small Tuna- Yeah, I don't know. Stealing Cinderella is kind of cheesy, but the premise is beautiful when you're at that cusp of wanting to be married and still having father issues. Who knows. Sentimental me. ;)  
Squint Squad- Thank you! The pastry is amaaaaazing.  
KTface-Thank you! I was trying to make it realistic and amazing all at the same time!  
Lulu- OF course I do. I am an epilogue queen! And I don't even know what I think about the writers and JAM proposal. I will await sept 25th.  
Lovemesome- Aww thanks. I want my husband to do that one day too!

Firewolves- Oh thank you! I appreciate it!  
Young- HAHAHA. Yes I know!  
Dina- Thank you! Hmm. I don't know. Maybe because I figure he's a winker. He does the other things a lot too, there's just like one or two paragraphs where he winks a lot. He winks! It's his thing. You know, like Ryan's the fire guy. And Stanley's the crossword guy. Jim is the wink guy? Hahaha. And than you!  
Tophetangel- Well here it is! And than you so much!  
GlamGlitter- Or did I?... and thanks so much! You're wonderful!  
Skywalker princess- AWWWW. Thank you! What a compliment! Seriously, thank you!  
DragonWingedHanyou- I AM GIVING IT TO YOU NOW! Hahaha.  
Alison- Aww thanks! And thank you! You're the best. We will talk soon, I promise. I've been busy!

Anon- I think that basically gets down to it, don't you? Thanks!  
Ashley- Me too!  
OneTreeFan- Thank you so much!! You're the best!  
Sara- WOW! Thank you for your wonderful review! Please add me to your favorites or something because I love your reviews and would love to have your input on other stories! I appreciate what you've said about their characters because my number one goal is for them to seem like real people. And I hope you feel wonderfully better soon!

* * *

She climbed the stairs of her parent's brick house, the wood creaking under her feet with every step. She smiled as she thought back to the years she'd spent chasing her brothers and sisters through the hallway, trying to cover up the messes they'd made and trying to fix the various windows, appliances, and pretty decorations they'd broken with powerful kicks and bad catches.

It had been four months since she'd set foot in her parents' house. She'd gone to college and gotten married, and now, when she and her husband had just bought their first house, she was back to the attic of her parents' modest two-story house searching for those things she'd left behind for her hop from temporary living space to temporary living space. Now that she was moving into a legitimate house with legitimate space, she was taking the last of her things that afternoon.

She was the last one to make this final transition, which made it easier for her to sort through the storage boxes in the attic. All of her older brothers and sisters had done their share of clearing out old memories, and now she was left only to sort through her own, and her parents boxes of memories. She inhaled the scent of childhood as she reached the attic, taking a moment to savor in the feeling of home before she began the process of moving her life completely from one place to the other.

She sat down in a corner of the attic, pulling an old box toward her and lifting the flap, coughing at the dust that shook loose as she did. She reached inside of the box, smiling as she pulled out an old picture frame of her mom and dad on their wedding day. Her father's dark brown hair was combed to the side—a look she'd rarely seen him wear except when her mother begged him to, which she didn't do often. Her mother's was curled slightly, half up with tendrils beside her face. It was a candid shot from their wedding, and the expression in her father's eyes couldn't be described as anything less than being desperately in love.

She pulled the frame out of the box, along with a few other things she knew her father—ever the sentimental one—had kept all of these years. She saw her parents' wedding announcement, and an old piece of tenfoil she'd written "hey daddy" on, followed by a date just over seven months before her oldest sibling, Allie was born. She pulled out little figurines, a dried up rose from a special ceremony, and other pieces of paper from art shows her mother had been in, or letters her father had written her mother years earlier. After she'd pulled nearly everything out of the box, she noticed an old, worn and dusty scrapbook at the bottom, easily made 30 years ago, if not more.

She pulled the scrapbook out of the bottom and wrinkled her forehead as she read the cover: _ABC, 123, Baby, You and Me, Girl. _She leafed through it carefully, her entire face scrunching, not in recognition but in confusion. She was busy looking at the inscription on the first page, when she heard her mother's soft voice behind her, "Kamea?"

She turned, smiling at her mother from her spot on the floor. She lifted up the scrapbook to show her, "what's this?" Her mother smiled from her spot against the door and walked slowly over to where she was sitting. She slowly sat down on the ground next to her daughter, pulling the old scrapbook in her lap. She smiled, patting the back of her head.

"Haven't you ever heard the story of your dad and I?" she asked softly, smiling as she opened the front cover.

"Sure, you and dad met at that office and were best friends and you dated and then you fell in love," Kamea shrugged. "What does that have to do with this?"

"Our story's a lot more complicated than that," Pam said, dusting off the first page with her sleeve. "I was engaged to another man, and your father was in love with me, and there was just so much drama. But it all came to a head this one afternoon. I'd had a fight with my fiancé and was sitting on your father's porch waiting for him to come home, and when he did, that's when it all began."

"What happened?" Kamea asked, smiling.

"I'll show you," Pam said, flipping the first page.

Kamea watched as her mother flipped to the first page, smiling to herself. "Your dad gave me this scrapbook for Christmas one year," Pam said, running her finger over one of the pages. "I'd forgotten it was up here." Kamea looked over the page, taking in the stickers and pieces of paper glued on to the red background. She noticed a big black A at the top, and her father's scribbly handwriting under it, _is for apartment hunting._ "Where should I start?"

"The beginning," Kamea said, smiling.

"Well," Pam began, smiling as she spread her legs out in front of her, bringing the scrapbook up on her lap. "Your father had always been my best friend, pretty much since the moment I met him. We just had this chemistry and we got along so well, and it just made sense. But I was engaged to my high school boyfriend, Roy, and it was all just a secret, hidden mess." Pam smiled, looking off into the distance for a moment before focusing her attention back on her daughter and the scrapbook in their hands. "One night I fount out Roy had been cheating with me, so I went to your dad's and waited for him to come home because I didn't really know what else to do. Looking back on it, there are plenty of other places I could have gone, but at the time, the only name that kept flickering in my mind was _Jim._"

Kamea smiled. "Well, I think Dad's the right person to go to. You know he can't refuse help to anyone."

Pam smiled, laughing. "That's the truth. Remember when he was late for Christmas dinner that one year? I was so mad at him," she chuckled. "Turned out he was just helping some old fart on the side of the road."

Kamea laughed, "typical Dad."

Pam nodded for a moment, before smiling and continuing, "anyway, your Dad brought me in and let me stay with him, and he was just really good about it. He didn't force me to talk or tell him what was up or anything. He just let me be… except there was this moment in the kitchen where I was ranting about how men were scum, and I was done with them and blahdy blah blah," Pam waved her hand in dismissal and Kamea laughed. "And your dad took such an offense to it that he bet me he could make me change my mind by taking me on 26 dates, each with a different letter of the alphabet."

"Dad is so cheesy," Kamea said, laughing as she looked down. "So A was apartment hunting?"

"Yeah, he circled all of these apartments in the area, and checked them out for me," she smiled, pointing down at the floor plan from the brochure of the apartment she'd lived in. "This is the one he picked out for me, and it was really wonderful," she smiled. "I needed to live on my own, and it was the perfect apartment for that."

"Why is there an…" Kamea paused as she read the name of the cereal, "Applejacks box? What are Applejacks anyway?"

Pam laughed, "Oh, they were this old cereal we had way back when dinosaurs roamed the earth. They were made for little kids. You know, lots of sugar, bright colors. Your dad loved them and made me eat them because they started with A." The girls laughed for a moment, before Pam flipped a few more pages.

"So I guess at this time you weren't really interested in Dad? Was he interested in you?" Kamea asked, looking up.

"Um, well," Pam hesitated for a moment, mulling the question over in her head. "I think… and this is getting mushy and weird so to each his own, but, I think I've always been interested in your dad. Loved your dad, really. I just didn't know it yet, or I refused to recognize it, or something. If you would have asked me then, I would have said no. And your dad says he was kind of in the same boat. He surprised himself by how adamant he was that I not give up. So yeah, I suppose we were interested, we just didn't know it yet," Pam said, smiling as she let the page land on E.

"E is for Eavesdropping?" Kamea read out loud, looking at the page. The background was entirely covered in camouflage fabric, and she laughed, "what the heck did you do?" She smiled, noticing outlined pictures of her mother and father, one on each side of the page, decked in full spy gear. "Stinging Zebra? Zigzag Platypus? What in the world?"

Pam chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand. "I forgot we did this!" Kamea looked at her perplexedly, while Pam stared at the page, smiling and relishing in the memory before opening her mouth to explain it to her youngest daughter. "Do you remember that little boy you used to go to preschool with? Maximilian?"

"You mean Max? Yeah, he was weird," Kamea said. "He always had the weirdest food for lunch, and his mom always gave me weird looks."

Pam laughed, smiling. "Well, your dad and I used to work with Max's father… and his mother, actually. But his father and we had this strange relationship. It was really the epitome of love hate. And we used to pull these pranks on him. That's actually how your dad and I got so close."

"Like what?" Kamea asked.

"You know, the old jello in stapler, desk in bathroom. Just generic tricks. Well, Mr. Scott, your dad's boss. Do you remember him?"

"Mr. Scott? I thought dad's boss was… oh wait, you mean from like, a really long time ago?"

"Yeah, it was a long time ago," Pam said, shaking her head lightly. "Well, he used to host these award shows called the Dundies, and Max's dad thought the world of the Dundies, and so he saved them and displayed them and everything. And he had really ticked us off the week before, so that week we retaliated by stealing his dundy." Pam laughed, and Kamea stared at her, mouth open. "That's also when we found out he was dating Max's mom. They'd kept it a secret for a long time."

Kamea smiled, looking the page over as her mother continued.

"This was our E date. This is the first time dad met Grandma, and he swears up and down she's the one who made him realize he loved me. I'm not sure how that came about, but hey, I'll take it however I can get it." Pam smiled, fingering the corner of the menu he'd kept from their dinner out. "Grandma met us for dinner. Your dad got the tacos. I remember because he was really sick from them for a few days afterwards, and I was so bored at work." Kamea laughed, watching her mother as the door opened behind them.

"Hey Mea, you ready?" the girls turned around to the voice, and Kamea smiled as she saw her husband poke his head in the room. "Oh, hi Mom!" he said, smiling and making his way over to Pam and kissing her on the forehead. "We were going to go out to dinner. Would you like to come?"

Pam smiled, shaking her head lightly, "No thanks, you two have fun." She picked up the scrapbook, starting to close it, when she felt Kamea kiss her cheek.

"We'll finish it later, okay?" she asked, smiling. Pam nodded, grinning as she took Kevin's hand to get up off the ground, carrying the scrapbook downstairs.

* * *

Jim opened the door to his house and hung his briefcase up on the hook near the door, walking into the kitchen to get a glass of water. The house was mostly dark, as it normally was when he came home from a long business trip earlier than he'd originally said he would. He tried to do that as often as he could. Often, he told Pam he'd be back Wednesday, fully knowing it would be Tuesday at the latest, just so he could see the broad smile on her face when he unexpectedly showed up at their door. He pushed his glass against the ice maker, watching as the ice clinked against his glass, and then he shifted his hand to the right and pressed the water dispenser, grinning at the sound the water made as it hit the ice.

He kicked his shoes off and headed toward the stairs to get ready for bed, when he noticed a faint light in the living room. He assumed Pam had just forgotten to turn it off that night as she'd watched reruns of _The Price is Right_, but when he walked into the room, he was surprised to find the TV off, the lamp on, and Pam sleeping in his recliner, a huge book in her hands. He smiled as he walked closer, knowing what book she was reading, but why, he had no idea. His mind drifted back to that day so many years ago when he'd created the scrapbook for her.

_She stood by the edge of the tree, telling him over and over again to be careful as he tried to hang the angel on the top of the Christmas tree. He looked down at her, rolling his eyes and smiling, making smart remarks that sounded something like, "I promise to eat my vegetables, mom." She'd respond with something about how she wasn't his mother but his wife, and just the mention of her and his wife in the same sentence would be enough to make him finish the tedious job of hanging the angel just so he could climb down the ladder and kiss her._

_It was their first Christmas as a married couple. They'd only been married nine months, and they'd been an extremely difficult nine months, but he wouldn't trade them for the world. They'd had a hard time figuring out how to combine Christmas traditions and birthday traditions; he'd had a hard time letting her have her 'girl time', and she hadn't understood how much he really needed to see every game that came on TV. They'd fought over silly things, like whether or not Pam's sweater made her look flushed out, and serious things, like where the electricity bill had disappeared to since it came in the mail the day before. There longest lasting argument had been about the distance from Jim's dirty clothes to the hamper. He'd felt the floor was perfect to hold dirty clothes, but she couldn't understand why all his years of watching basketball on TV hadn't transferred to an ability to shoot his clothes into a laundry basket._

_As hard as their first year had been, they both were still assured of each other's love and commitment to their relationship, and just that assurance had kept something alive in both of them. Nine months into their marriage and Jim swore they were closer than they'd been before._

_He climbed down the ladder, and she smiled up at the angel, her face glowing with excitement. "Baby, it looks great," she said, turning to him and wrapping her arms around him. He smiled down at her, and she locked eyes with his, kissing him softly. "So, I have an idea."_

_"Okay," Jim smiled. "Let's hear it."_

_"Well, we have all of these traditions from our childhoods and families, and you know, we're a family now…" she said, trailing off lightly._

_"We are," he said, smiling as he kissed her once. She blushed, as she did every now and then when he kissed her, mostly when she was taken by surprise._

_"I was thinking we should start our own tradition. We can pass it on to our kids and it can wreak havoc on their marriages later on," Pam laughed, smiling. Jim grinned, slipping his hands into hers and squeezing them lightly. She'd noticed that recently Jim had started to really love holding hands with her. When she'd brought it up the past week, he'd simply shrugged and said 'it's like hugging for your hands,' and she'd smiled, taking his hands in hers. Their hands had been almost inseparable since then._

_"So, what's this hellish tradition that will ruin our children's lives forever?" Jim asked, laughing. "Ketchup egg nog? Trick or treating? Oh, that would be kind of fun… We could dress up as Santa, or the reindeer, and go down the street…"_

_"Jim!" Pam laughed. He looked at her and she grinned. "That actually would be kind of fun…" she trailed off and he laughed. "But I was thinking we should start a tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve and saving the rest for Christmas morning."_

_"I think that's a wonderful idea, honey," Jim said, taking her hand and leading her over to the tree. "I have the perfect one."_

_"Me too," Pam said, smiling. She grabbed a small, almost completely flat box and handed it to him as he handed her a bag with tissue paper. "Who's first?" Pam asked._

_"You are," Jim said, smiling as he sat down on the couch, putting his present to the side and pulling her into his lap. She smiled at him and kissed his cheek._

_"Thank you," she said, grinning._

_He chuckled, "you haven't even opened it yet!"_

_"I know, but I love it already!" she said, giggling as she pulled the paper off the package, pulling the scrapbook out amidst all the paper. She gasped as she read the cover, turning to look at him, tears in her eyes. "Are you kidding me, Tuna?"_

_He laughed. "Just open it, Mrs. Tuna." She laughed, flipping through the first few pages as he narrated them._

Jim could remember almost every narration from that book, but the ones he most remembered were N and O, his two favorite dates by far.

_"Oh, I remember this date," Pam said, flipping to the page that said 'N is for New York'. "I think I fell a little bit more in love with you on this date, Prince Charming."_

_He laughed. "I'm glad you liked it. I tried to give you every romantic date cliché in the book." She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. "I wanted you to feel like a princess."_

_"I did," she said, running her hand over the page. She laughed at the restaurant menu he'd taken and one napkin he'd taped to the pages. She laughed at the ticket stub of their play, and smiled when she saw the picture he'd pasted to the page. "When was this taken?" she asked, looking up at him with a grin._

_He smiled. "In the hotel. I gave one of the bellboys a camera and a nice tip and told him he had to take a lot of pictures of us. This one was my favorite."_

_"I don't even remember twirling like that," she smiled. "God, I love my dress."_

_"Oh, you love that dress?" Jim said, laughing. "I guarantee you someone else loves it a lot more." She laughed, and he smiled, pointing. "We were on our way to Nobu, and we were heading out the door, and I lifted my arm and you twirled under it and out the door."_

_She smiled, staring at the picture a bit more. "God, look at your face. The way you're looking at me," she sighed, tears in her eyes as he pulled her closer. "You look so desperately in love."_

_"I am," Jim replied, smiling. "Oh, and look," he said, flipping a tab like one would a children's book and pulling out a silver disc. "I found our Cash Cab performance."_

_"No!" she squealed, laughing. "We have to watch it!" He smiled. "We will later, let's keep looking at the scrapbook." She flipped the page, tears in her eyes as she read aloud, "O is for Oh! The Places You'll Go!"_

_He smiled. "Oh, the places we went."_

_"Do you want to know something?" she asked, smiling as she looked at him and he gave her an incredulous look that directly translated into 'of course'. "This was my favorite date. Of all the dates we went on, this one was my favorite."_

_"Because of the awesome kiss?" Jim asked, laughing._

_"No…" Pam said, "well, that too…" He laughed, and she smiled. "But no, you didn't care that I was sick, you just wanted me to be okay. And you took such good care of me, and you made being sick fun, and I don't know… I think that's when I first realized there was something there. For both of us." He smiled, watching her as she wiped her eyes. "And then when you kissed me… It was the best kiss of my life." She sighed, and he smiled, watching her and pulling her closer as they finished through the rest of the book._

Jim smiled, remembering easily how that Christmas was one of the best he'd ever had, mostly because of the present Pam had given him.

_"Okay, your turn," Pam said, turning in her seat on his lap to watch him. She was twiddling her thumbs in the way she did when she was nervous, and she smiled, and he laughed._

_"Why are you so nervous? I promise I'll like it," he said, smiling and leaning into kiss her. She smiled and nodded, and he pulled the paper off the flat box and lifted the lid, pulling out a single sheet of tinfoil. "Thanks for the tinfoil?" he said, arching his eyebrow._

_"Turn it over," Pam said shakily, and he eyed her for a moment before doing what she said, reading the words she'd written in a black sharpie, the vision of it engrained in his moment forever._

_He opened his mouth slightly, and then read, "hey daddy." His mouth dropped open for a minute, before he smiled, "okay, so do you mean hey daddy like, in the bedroom way or the baby way?"_

_She laughed, "well, I was thinking the baby way, but it can be the bedroom way too."_

_He smiled, "God, what an awesome Christmas!" He leaned in and kissed her, setting the piece of tinfoil to the side and pulling her closer, smiling. He slipped his hand down to her stomach and left it there, smiling at her._

_"So, you're… okay with that?" she asked hesitantly, and he used his free hand to push the curls out of her eyes, smiling._

_"Absolutely, I am."_

Pam rustled in her chair, hearing Jim breathe even through the sounds of sleeping. She rubbed her eyes, smiling as she did before opening them, "hi," she said softly.

"Hi," he said, leaning down and kissing her forehead. "Do you always sleep in my recliner when I'm gone?"

"It smells like you," she murmured, wrapping her arms around him and hanging on. "I miss you when you're gone."

"I miss you when I'm gone too," he said, picking her up in his arms. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

She latched on, softly and sleepily protesting, "You're going to hurt your back."

"You're worth it," he said, walking into their bedroom. "Now shh."

"Don't tell me to shh," she said, kissing his stubbly chin. "Somebody forgot to shave this morning."

"Yeah, I can see your leg hair all the way through your pajama bottoms," Jim said, nodding. "You really should go to a doctor about that." She laughed as he set her down on the bed, and walked over to the dresser, changing quickly into the t-shirt and boxers that had become his classic bedtime attire over their entire marriage. He expected her to drift back to sleep in the few seconds he was away from her changing, but when he turned around, he was pleasantly surprised to see her smiling at him.

"So, how was your trip?" she asked, and he smiled, crawling into bed next to her and pulling her close.

"It was really good. I closed the Donaldson account which will be nice because it's a big account, and I went and visited with Mr. Monroe, and I think I'm really close to closing that too."

"Oh, that's great, honey!" Pam said, smiling. "You should have stayed longer to celebrate!"

"Well, you know I'm kind of a wimp when it comes to being gone from home," he said, and she laughed lightly. "How has your weekend been? Did everything go smoothly with Mea?"

"Yeah, she's not quite done yet," Pam said, resting her head on his chest. "She probably could have been, but we got distracted by stuff up in the attic."

"You mean like the huge ferocious dust bunnies?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, they're vicious little bitches," Pam said, giggling. He looked at her, rolling his eyes as she sighed, coming down from her laughter. "No, we found the old sentimental box."

"The old sentimental box? That's very descriptive," Jim replied straight-faced. Pam laughed, swatting his arm.

"You know, the _us _box. The one we put everything in."

"Everything? Like the lost city of Atlantis?"

She looked up at him, staring for a minute before dramatically rolling her eyes. "No, like the scrapbook and old pictures of us, and our wedding announcement. You know, our relationship milestones."

"Yeah, I've known what box you were talking about the entire time," Jim said, kissing her forehead. "So, since you've been taking a trip down memory lane, tell me something?"

"The Sixers are overrated?" Pam asked hopefully.

"Blasphemy!" Jim said, laughing. "I was just thinking," he said, pulling her closer. "You never told me what your favorite date was."

"April 22nd, 'cause its not too hot and its not too cold?" Pam asked, and Jim smiled. She sighed, "Our date to Snyder. And before you ask why, because I feel like I really got to know all of you that weekend. And I topped Caitlin Cooper."

"Who is Caitlin Cooper? And that's what she said?" Jim said, eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Caitlin Cooper was your first kiss. Don't you remember?" Pam asked, and Jim shook his head lightly in confusion, no recollection on his face. "Wow," Pam said, smiling. "I hope you won't forget me in forty years."

"Well, you use tongue."

Pam laughed. "So tongue is the deciding factor on whether you're going to remember someone?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Yep."

Pam slugged him lightly. "Liar, liar, pants on fire."

"Oh, did you learn that one from Allie when she was in kindergarten?" Jim asked, laughing.

"Allie did say that all the time, didn't she?" Pam asked, laughing. "For about a year everything at the dinner table was 'liar liar pants on fire', and Austin wasn't even talking yet."

"Well, she's always been a perceptive child," Jim laughed. "Maybe she just knew he was lying."

"Yeah, I suppose she has been perceptive."

"You suppose? Your six year old told you she was going to have another baby brother. She knew you were pregnant before you did."

"Hey!" Pam protested, laughing. "She's a girl! Girls know things!"

"I'm pretty sure most six year olds don't go up to their mommies and ask if there's a baby brother in her tummy."

"At least she didn't say uterus?" Pam shrugged her shoulders, laughing. "You know what I really want to do?" she said, looking up at him with a face that for a minute blended with his son's, and he almost thought it was Austin staring back at him and not his wife. He smiled, raising his eyebrows, almost captivated by the look of pure joy and comfort on her face. "I want to watch a home video."

"We can do that," Jim said, climbing out of bed and walking to the cabinet. "But after that we really should get to bed."

"Okay," she said, watching him open up.

"How many kids do you want to see in it?" Jim asked, thumbing through the videos sorted by year.

"All four," Pam laughed. She watched Jim's finger race across six years of tapes until it reached when Kamea was born, and she smiled. "Maybe when Mea was one or two."

Jim pulled out a tape and pushed it in the tape player, turning the TV on and pressing play before he climbed into bed next to her, pulling her close. "Vacation to Hawaii," he said softly, smiling.

"Oh, the infamous vacation to Hawaii," Pam laughed, smiling. "I'm really glad we went on that."

Jim chuckled lightly. "Even if we hadn't, we would have still ended up okay."

"Yeah, I just like to credit Hawaii for some reason," Pam said, laughing. "Maybe 'cause it got you away from the office."

Jim reached for the remote and paused it, turning to look at her. "You can always get me away from the office, baby. I know it didn't feel like it then, but don't give Hawaii so much credit you cheapen yourself out of some."

She smiled, leaning over and kissing him softly. "It all turned out for the best anyway. Without that little rough patch, we wouldn't be as strong today, right?"

"Right," Jim said, smiling. She snuggled closer to him and he pressed play again, both of them watching as the scene played in front of them.

_"Daddy! Daddy!" a small five-year-old boy ran up to him, a sandcastle-shaped bucket and a shovel in his hand. "We're trying to bury Noah! Will you help us?"_

_Jim laughed, his mouth opening slightly. "You're trying to bury your younger brother?" Austin nodded lightly, unsure of how his father would react until Jim took the shovel from his hand and raced over to where his daughter Allie was standing next to a clump of sand with feet and a head sticking out. Austin giggled, running after his father to join his sister and brother down by the sand._

_"Daddy are you good at this stuff?" Austin asked, adding more sand to his brother's stomach. _

_"Okay, here's how you do this, kids," Jim said, taking some sand in his hand. "You have to clump it together, and then kinda push it against Noah," he said, packing it against his youngest son's body. "Then you just keep adding on after you have the first layer packed. But make sure you pack it, 'cause if you don't what will happen?" He asked, looking from his nine-year-old to his five-year-old._

_"It'll all fall off?" Allie asked, pulling the strap of her bathing suit back up to her shoulder and wiping her forehead._

_"Yeah, when the wind blows, it'll all blow into Noah's eyes," Jim said. "And we don't want to hurt Noah, right?"_

_"No!" Austin said loudly, mad that Dad would even suggest he might. "We love Noah!" Jim smiled, adding more sand to Noah's belly._

_Jim felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned around to see Pam behind him, holding Kamea in her arms. She slid down next to him, her head falling against his shoulder as she smiled. Kamea got up out of her arms, walking closer to her brother and sister and pointing "noah!" The other kids laughed, and Austin reached up and tickled his sister. Pam closed her eyes to hear the sounds of her children laughing and giggling, the sun hot on her forehead until she felt Jim's cool lips touch her forehead just once._

_She smiled, opening her eyes slowly to look at him as he leaned closer to her, kissing her once more and then pulling her tightly in a hug. "Our kids are incredible," he said in her ear, and she looked up at him, a soft, sad smile on her face._

_"You should see them at home," she said softly, squeezing his hand. He looked at her, a somewhat perplexed look on his face before he put his forehead against hers, kissed her nose lightly, and said softly, "I will. I promise."_

_She smiled up at him, scooting closer as she watched Noah try and break free from the sand barrier, chasing his brothers and sisters into the water. She laughed softly as she saw Kamea toddling after them, and started to get up until she saw Allie turn around and laugh, picking up her little sister and running into the water, staying shallow enough that her younger sister wouldn't be scared. She called out to the boys, who had already swam out as far as they could, and they turned around, not even hesitating before swimming back to the shore._

_"You're sure you're good with four?" Pam asked, looking up at Jim._

_Jim smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek and wrap his arms tighter around his wife. "I feel extremely lucky to even have that many," he said. "Besides, you remember our deal, don't you?"_

_She smiled. "You mean your dream to keep having babies until one of them looks like she fits the name Kamea, and then once we have that one, we'll know we're supposed to be done?"_

_"That's the one," Jim said, laughing._

_"Oh I remember that one well. I was somewhat scared you weren't going to ever give me another girl! I'd just keep popping out boys until I turned fifty."_

_Jim laughed. "Would that be so bad? We'd have our own basketball team."_

_She smiled. "I'm happy with the way things are."_

_Jim smiled, and the two of them looked out at the ocean, watching their four kids splashing water, dunking, and taking care of each other, their giggles louder than the ocean wind._

Jim looked over at her, smiling. "I can't believe they're all grown up and married and making us grandbabies."

"I know. Just yesterday I was cutting the crusts off their sandwiches," Pam said, smiling. "Well, yesterday I did cut the crusts off Austin's. He's still a mama's boy at heart."

"Well, with a mama like his, why wouldn't he be?" Jim asked, winking. They laughed for a moment before Jim smiled, "do you remember that night, when we got home?"

"The tickling fight?" Pam asked, slowly inching away from Jim and he laughed, putting one hand down next to her on the bed and hovering over her.

"Yes, the tickling fight," he said, leaning down to kiss her passionately. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back, but he abruptly broke away, taking the opportunity of her arms being up to tickle her, laughing. She giggled, and he smiled, "I love the way you giggle," he said, tickling her more and more, her breath becoming more shallow until she finally shouted for him to stop. He stopped right away, smiling over at her, and she smiled back, her hair all over the place from rolling around the bed with the giggles.

"Some things never change, I guess," she said, laughing.

"Well, how I feel about you never has," he said, bopping her on the nose with his pointer finger, and she smiled, her eyes somewhat teary. He brushed her hair out of her face and smiled down at her, "I'm even more crazy about you forty years later than I ever was before."

"Oh, you have no idea," she laughed, pulling him down and kissing him softly as the home video played through in the background. She smiled, pulling away lightly and cocking her head to the side. "So, what was your favorite date?"

He smiled, "the one where you said yes."

"Remind me how that one goes," she said, resting her head on his chest.

"Then we really have to go to bed. You know tomorrow I have a date with the most beautiful girl in the world, so I need to be well-rested." She smiled, blushing lightly. She still hadn't quite gotten used to being the most beautiful girl in the world, but she wouldn't protest it any longer.

"It was about five o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon, and you'd been having a really rough day, I remember. Michael had been calling you Pamela Anderson all day, which, you know, was a double edged sword."

"I remember," Pam laughed slightly. "Doesn't seem so horrible anymore."

"Well of course not, you have me." Jim said, laughing. "Anyway, I came over to your desk and told you that you had to stay late to help me with some paperwork, and you were really not happy, but you didn't have your own transportation."

"I almost caught a ride with Angela. I was so peeved at you!" Pam laughed, swatting his arm lightly.

"But you didn't," Jim smiled. "So, when everyone had left, I made you do all this paperwork and I disappeared, and when I came back down you were really mad at me. But I didn't really care because you don't last long when you're mad."

"I can't help it!" Pam said, laughing. "You make me lose my cool and then you make me get it back!"

"I'm just that good!" Jim said, laughing. "Well, so, then I asked you to come up to the roof with me, and I think that's when you guessed something was going on."

"Well we'd had picnics on the roof before, so I just figured," Pam shrugged.

Jim smiled. "So I took you up to the porch and you were just shocked."

"Well there were flowers everywhere! Daisies because they were the happiest flower! And lilies because of our date!" Pam exclaimed. "And I just love flowers."

"And there was a table and two chairs in the middle of it all, and an old Rod Stewart CD playing in the background," Jim continued.

"No band only because you wanted it to be just us," Pam sighed, smiling.

Jim smiled, "and I served you the ultra-gourmet meal of grilled cheese and grape soda."

"Sparkling grape soda," Pam corrected, smiling. "It's important it was sparkling."

"Oh, right, sparkling," Jim replied. "Very important." Pam laughed, and he continued, "And then when you were done with your dinner, I cleared our plates and brought your dessert."

"My jello," Pam sighed.

"Your jello," Jim replied. "Lots of jello…"

"Because you had to use four boxes," Pam smiled, sighing.

"Right, because 'will you marry me?' is four words, and I needed one word per box."

"And then I finished my jello, and you put the boxes out in front of me. And you started telling me how much you loved me and wanted to be with me forever, but I couldn't even hear you because I was too focused on the boxes," Pam gazed into the distance.

"Right, and I could tell, so I made you listen the second time."

"And I did listen the second time," Pam smiled. "And what you said was beautiful."

"And I still feel that way," Jim replied, and Pam smiled up at him. "And then I gave you your second bowl of jello that evening."

"And on the top of it was a note card," Pam helped.

"And the note card said…"

"Damn! I put your ring in jello again. You have to eat it out," Pam smiled. "And when I ate it out, it was just a cracker jacks ring."

"I didn't want you to get jello on your fingers," Jim smiled.

"The real ring was in your pocket the whole time."

"But as soon as you realized it was a cracker jacks ring you were up out of your seat and sitting in my lap," Jim smiled.

"I needed to be close to you," Pam replied.

"So I put the ring on your finger…"

"And I just started crying and kissing you and hugging you and going crazy," Pam smiled.

"Because you thought it would never happen."

"And then it did," she finished.

"And then it did," he returned.

"And I would say yes all over again if you asked me today," Pam smiled.

"And I would be the happiest man in the world all over again," Jim replied.

"Because you were engaged to the happiest girl," Pam smiled.

"And then we would go to sleep," Jim said, turning off the light and pulling her closer.

"And dream of each other," Pam replied snuggling closer.

"And probably a few three-eyed monsters, too," Jim yawned.

"Probably a few three-eyed monsters too," Pam said, yawning against his chest, her breath becoming heavier as she drifted into sleep.

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Well that's that folks! Hope you enjoyed the epilogue as much as the first 27 chapters, and I can't say again how thankful I am for you all reading and reviewing as you do! You are wonderful, and please tell me how you liked it! And don't hesitate to chat me up! I love talking to you guys!

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